The Road Goes On
by xXfireXflyXx
Summary: A collection of sequels for the 'Him... a father' series. Keep in touch with the unruly Malfoy family, Ginny Snape, and everyone else as they try to rebuild their fractured world. Rated 'M' for certain chapters, DR/HR, LM/NM, SS/GW, HP/OC, RW/LL etc.
1. Mail Issues

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Hello all! For those of you that have read **_**Him… a father? Pfffht.**_**, you'll understand the characters and whatnot. All of the stories that follow are sequels to the story, which is a sequel to _The Arrogant Heart_. You can see my profile page for the full story breakdown. This, like the previous works, is AU and some characters may be a tad OOC. I wrote the initial adventure before the 6th book was finished, so well before the 7th book, and I like it. I'm not going to change it. We're going to roll with the punches. **

**There will be short stories, drabbles, and one-shots in here for all of my characters - from Annie Malfoy up to Severus Snape. The story titles will be in the chapter titles, so it'll make it easier to tell what's happening. I'll also include a little title memo on the first document of each chapter. You'll see. It's easy!**

**Much love to everyone who has been following the series over the years. I'm moving it into one category here to make it easier to read and follow. **

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><p><strong>Mail Issues - ONESHOT<strong>

_Lucius has some issues, and Narcissa hardly understands what all the fuss is about. Apparently, it's a pretty common problem!_

Lucius had everything for that night planned out perfectly. Draco and his herd of children had officially moved into their new home. Even though it was only a five minute walk away, the old man was still happy that they were finally out of his home. It was the first time in far too long that it was only himself and his wife. So, he had planned a romantic evening for them. A month after the war, and he had been craving his Narcissa for some time. She was always too tired at night, mostly because she was helping move Draco and his family, or she would spent the day out with her newfound friend Molly Weasley.

Ha, but not tonight. No sir; Lucius had planned this perfectly. He sent Narcissa out to her usual spa for a day of pampering, in the meantime getting the house elves to prepare their most delicious meal for dinner. When his darling wife came home, he presented her with the new dress he had picked up while she was out - a strapless silk one, in a deep green hue that traveled just down to the top of her knees. Naturally, she argued that she was too old to wear a dress like that, but Lucius argued back that she barely looked a day over thirty. The woman had aged gracefully, and while most women simply let themselves go, it seemed Narcissa was bent on making sure she kept her lovely figure until the last possible moment.

Dinner went wonderfully. He sat close to her, his arm slung across the back of her chair as he casually played with bits of her hair. The food was scrumptious, and he was constantly filling her glass with the sweet French wine he had been saving for a special occasion like this. She adored it, and by the time they had finished with dinner, Lucius was quite set on having his desert. Taking his gorgeous wife by the hand, he led her slowly up to their bedroom, catching her off guard several times with a firm kiss. She seemed to expect this, oddly enough, and was just as eager as he was.

She tasted the same as always. Sweet. Inviting. Now with a hint of wine. Her skin smelled intoxicating as ever, and Lucius barely had her in the room before his hands went to the small zipper at the back of her dress, his skilled hand fumbling over the small silver handle for a moment or two.

Honestly, these things used to be bigger. Narcissa giggled against his lips, yet released a soft moan as he trailed kisses down her neck, his large hands pushing the material of her dress down her body, trailing slowly over her hips as she wriggled out of it, stepping free from the heap of fabric quickly. All four hands went to work on his outfit, seeing as Lucius had more clothes on than his little wife. He quickly removed his belt, and set to make short work of his trousers, while she heatedly pushed his jacket off his shoulders, pausing him from his movement to get the black item off his arms, and then moved onto the small buttons of his white shirt. They were almost doing a routine, one they had done many times before during their lengthy marriage. Since they were seventeen, actually... Bloody Hell they had been married a long time.

Lucius held in a groan as Narcissa ran her warm lips over his bare chest, and he quickly discarded of the rest of his clothing, then grasped her arms firmly and dragged her up into a scorching kiss, demanding passion without any words. His wife complied perfectly, throwing her arms around his neck as he undid the clasp of her strapless brassiere, tossing it aside in a fluid movement. He broke the kiss momentarily, his lips hungrily slipping down her neck to tease the sensitive skin on her breasts. Two small hands clasped at his hair, and he heard Narcissa moan his name softly under her breath, her eyes no doubt closing contently under the sensations. They both knew each other all too well.

She stepped away and pulled him up, grasping at his large hand as she dragged him over to the bed, his body melding into hers as they descended down onto the comfortable surface. In order to ensure he did not crush his wife, Lucius pushed himself up on his elbows, his lips finding hers achingly ready once more. Her lips weren't the only thing achingly ready for him. After removing her undergarment, he could tell she was already gone into desire. It didn't take much that night, it seemed. With a wolfish smile on his lips, he kissed up her thighs, careful to avoid anywhere that gave her too much pleasure, and then lazily up her stomach, over her breasts, and pausing at her neck, taking his sweet time there. He liked to tease, but so did Narcissa. It all depended on who had the upper hand from the beginning, and at that point, it was Lucius.

She moaned his name once more, begging softly for some sort of release from her current state. He chuckled against her skin, and smirked as he felt her tilt her hips up at him, eager.

It was at that point Lucius realized something was wrong. Frowning, he glanced down at himself, eyes widening when he noticed that he wasn't aroused... at all. This was impossible! He had a gorgeous woman practically begging for him, the one woman he loved more than anything, and he couldn't... get it up.

Lucius rolled off of his wife and sat up quickly, glaring down at his little, well not 'little', Lucius. What the Devil was happening? This had never, ever happened before! Narcissa let out a bit of a frustrated sigh beside him, and then sat up, circling her arms around his own and resting her head on his shoulder, "Darling, is something wrong... Did I..."

He noticed her eyes trail down to the area below his waist, and she fell silent for a moment, finally muttering, "Oh."

"I-I... I don't know what's happening," he mumbled sheepishly, glaring down at himself. "It's not you... I... "

"Oh, don't worry about it, darling," she purred, sitting up and moving behind him to rub his shoulders. "You know, I hear it's very common in men who are stressed-"

"I'm not stressed, Cissa," he grumbled, batting her away and getting up and off the bed, stalking over to the bathroom, and then locking himself inside. He could hear his wife moving around in the bedroom as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn't some silly teenager who had no control over his extremities; he was a _man_, and this was just plain embarrassing!

"Lucius?"

He heard Narcissa's patient, soothing voice seeping in from the other side of the door, and he tried to ignore the soft knock, "Darling, really, it's not a big issue... I hear it's quite common-"

"I am _not_ common, Cissa!" he argued, standing stark naked before the mirror, quite impatient with himself for not, er, rising to the occasion.

Narcissa sighed loudly, one of those 'you're being difficult' sighs, and then replied, "I didn't say you were common, I meant not being able to get an erection is common in men... It happens sometimes."

Merlin, she just had to _say_ it, didn't she? He gripped the white sink tightly, and then smacked his head against the cold mirror, wishing tonight had turned out differently.

* * *

><p>"Remember, Annie, we can't stay for long," Draco informed his youngest daughter as they walked along the blazed trail in the woodlands dividing up the two Malfoy estates. "Your grandparents are having company over tonight, and I'm sure they have things to do."<p>

Well, his mother would have things to do. His father would most likely be up in the attic, pretending to be busy so he wouldn't have to help set up.

His other three children were currently at school, seeing as it was a Friday afternoon, and Draco had the day off. That was what was so brilliant about being the Head of a department. Whenever he didn't feel like working, he could simply dump off his load on someone below him, and then take the day off. He wasn't supposed to do that, and Hermione chided him each time he did, but still; it freed up a lot of his time to be with Annie. The little girl was going to be starting a sort of... wizarding preschool after the Christmas holidays that Luna Weasley was creating, and Draco wanted to be around his youngest as often as he could. Not that he'd never see her once she started school; it was only two days a week for children Annie's age, and every other Friday. She would slowly start attending it more frequently once she was older.

Their day was pretty simple; they were going to take the Muggle trains down to a nearby village, in which he would spoil his little Annie with whatever she would like to purchase, and then head home for dinner. Hermione was popping that night after work, also, which only made his day better. She still refused to move in with him, stating that they hadn't been dating long enough for that sort of step... It was a bit annoying, really.

However, before they could head out, Annie discovered that her favourite sweater had been left behind at her grandparents' house. Oh the horror. So, before they went anywhere, Draco agreed that they would walk over, pick up the sweater, and then start their very late day.

"Can't we stay for something to eat?" she asked playfully, swinging his hand as they walked through the chilly forest, "Grandmother always has nice sweets..."

"We'll buy some sweets for you in the village," Draco stated. It wasn't as though he didn't want to be around his parents, but he was keen on giving them their own space. He had been living in their home for almost thirty years, and he had doubts that they wanted him there all the time. It was difficult living with four children and no live-in wife, but Hermione was a lot more helpful than she was willing to admit.

Annie squealed happily, "Can we get some Berties?"

"Yes, Pumpkin, whatever you'd like."

"And can you eat the gross ones?"

Draco hated this promise, but agreed nonetheless, "Yes."

She grinned triumphantly up at him, and then continued along quietly, her little feet working tremendously fast to keep up with Draco's long strides. Thankfully there was no snow yet, otherwise she would have been horrifically slow. The trail wasn't a long one, and they arrived at the old Malfoy Manor quite quickly. Annie rushed ahead, shouting back that she was racing him to the door. He smirked, and then jogged slowly after her, just to give her the satisfaction of beating him to the back door.

"I won!" Annie trilled as she pushed the heavy door open with all her might, tumbling into the hallway giggling. Draco followed quickly, shutting the door to keep the cold out as the wind picked up. He barely had time to catch the little girl before his mother arrived at the entrance of the hall, her eyes darting down to Annie's rather filthy shoes.

"Hi, Grandmother!"

"Hello, love, please take your shoes _off_ before coming inside," Narcissa Malfoy ordered smoothly, helping the little girl take off her coat and mittens as Annie kicked off her shoes. The five year old went up on the tips of her toes to give her grandmother a kiss, and then skipped inside happily, calling out for Draco's father.

"Mother."

"Hello, dear," she cooed, straightening out a bit of his hair affectionately. "What brings you over?"

The house smelled wonderful; there was a roast cooking somewhere, and a nice mix of vegetables. It almost smelled like Christmas, but Draco knew the timing was a little premature.

"Annie forgot her sweater here from Tuesday," he explained, opting to leave his cloak on as he followed his mother into the foyer of the first floor. "Smells absolutely glorious in here, Mother... Who is lucky enough to be dining here tonight?"

"Lucius invited the Lupins over," she replied, sounding a little nervous about it. "He thought it would be nice for me to spend some time with Nymphadora, yet still have him around to fall back on if the conversation goes astray."

"Ah."

"Grandfather!"

"Annie, please don't shout."

Draco smirked at his father's irritated tones as the man marched down the staircase toward his daughter, giving her a little kiss on the head. Annie made a face, "What's the matter with _you_?"

"Annie, don't be rude," Draco reprimanded lightly, though he had to agree - something was up with his father that day.

His mother rolled her eyes dramatically, "Oh, don't mind him, Annie... He's just having male issues-"

"_Cissa_!"

"What, dearest?"

"I... You... I-I..." he sputtered, his nostrils flaring angrily, "I am _not_ having male issues!"

His father's eyes snapped over to Draco, venomously daring him to make a jest of some sort. Draco felt his own eyes widen, and he remained silent, not really sure what was happening.

"It's not a big deal, Grandfather," Annie stated, patting his arm. "Just get a new owl if you're having... mail issues."

Draco's mother let out a loud snort, "No, no, love, not that sort of 'male'. Your sweater is upstairs on my desk."

"Okay." She rushed past Lucius and hurried up the stairs, and then swiftly out of sight. A rather awkward silence settled over the remaining three Malfoys, and Draco cleared his throat to break the tension.

His father looked at him, "I just-"

"I don't want to know."

"Good."

His mother let out a groan and rolled her eyes once more, leaving them for better company in the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"This all looks delicious, Narcissa." Remus stated as a house elf placed the last dish for the evening on the table, "My compliments to the house elves..."<p>

"Oh, don't-" Narcissa started quickly, but was cut off due to the gratified wail a nearby house elf gave him, hurrying out of the room when Lucius Malfoy shot the creature a look.

The werewolf smiled apologetically, "Sorry... We don't have them at home."

"Not a problem," the blonde woman smiled from her husband's side. "Well, let's not just sit staring... Please, help yourselves."

Remus noticed his dear wife, who was seated across from her 'new' aunt, was the first to reach out for something to eat. She was only a month and a half pregnant, but he had already noticed her appetite had grown. Thankfully things were a little less stressful, dark wizard wise. Things were still hectic, considering he was the new Minister of Magic, but they both managed. He had people working under him who were eager to take on his assignments whenever Nymphadora needed him at home. He took his job very seriously, but his marriage was a top priority.

Neither of the Lupins knew the Malfoys very well, so it came as a bit of a shock when Lucius asked if they would like to come for dinner. He didn't think the older man would follow through with his promise to have them over. It was a little awkward to get the conversation flowing at first, but the women managed to bring up some topics to discuss, and eventually it opened up doors for the men to chat. They were an intelligent pair, the Malfoys. Both were educated enough in politics and foreign affairs to keep Remus interested, though he worried they wouldn't like him. It was a strange habit that the fellow had; he always wanted to be liked. Nymphadora couldn't understand why he would worry, but it always happened.

Everything went fine during the dinner, until Narcissa said something to Nymphadora that made Lucius freeze up. Something about male issues...

Remus felt his eyes widen in understanding, and suddenly realized just how uncomfortable this dinner could turn out to be.

"Cissa!"

"Oh, dearest, just continue on chatting with Remus," Narcissa urged, brushing him off in an attempt to continue talking to his wife.

He watched the blond man's eye twitch, and with pristine patience Lucius got out, "I hardly think this is dinner conversation-"

"It's not a big deal, Lucius," she fired back, Nymphadora nodding in agreement, asking her aunt why men had such problems discussing things openly. Remus shot him a sympathetic glanced, and then took a massive gulp of his brandy.

"I mean, when Remus went through that stage-"

The man actually chocked on his drink, a little bit of it seeping through his tightly shut lips. He swallowed quickly, his eyes widening as he looked at his wife, "Dora!"

"What? It was _ages_ ago," Nymphadora laughed, rubbing his arm lovingly. "We still have some of the medication he was prescribed if you-"

"Nymphadora, please!"

"See, I told you it was common, Lucius."

Remus looked across the table and noticed the man was staring pointedly at his food. In a moment, Remus cleared his throat, "What say we open the box of cigars I brought, eh Lucius?"

"Sounds about the perfect time," the other man replied, both of them standing at the same time and stalking out of the room. Narcissa chuckled, and Nymphadora scoffed at them, "Boys..."

_Girls, _Remus thought heatedly, shooting his wife a dark look over his shoulder.


	2. A Weekend at the Grangers 1

**A Weekend at the Grangers**

**Chapter 1: Suggestion**

_Hermione insists it's time for the Malfoys to meet her parents. After all, it's only fair, right? _

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><p>"Hey, Dad!"<p>

Draco glanced up at the sound of his son Kevin's voice, and he grinned as the boy broke away from a group of giggling girls to come over and say hello. Draco tried to act 'cool' when he was at Hogwarts, simply because he knew how embarrassing his parents sometimes were, and they were just acting like themselves back then. He hated making his kids feel awkward.

"How come you're here?" Kevin inquired, rolling his eyes as Draco reached out and tightened his tie a bit. All right, so he embarrassed them _a little_, but they didn't need to look like trash while they were in their school uniforms.

"I'm here to take Hermione out for some lunch," he replied, his grey eyes darting back to the girls. "Got yourself a bit of a fanclub there, Kev?"

"They think I'm some big war hero," his boy stated, scratching the back of his neck anxiously, as though that bothered him more than he was willing to admit. "I think one of them wants to ask me out, but I don't know which one yet."

Draco leaned around Kevin, his hands in his pants' pockets and did a quick study of the girls before muttering, "The redhead is pretty."

"Yeah... I guess."

Draco frowned suddenly, "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"It's lunch time," Kevin fired back. "Class starts in another half hour."

"Right. Well, I'm going to go find Hermione... She's in the library, right?"

"Last I saw of her, yes."

"Okay... Back to your girls then," Draco chuckled, shooting him a wink before wandering off in the general direction of the library. Students didn't really pay him much mind. There were many attending school from the prison, so the ones he knew smiled at him, but he had a feeling no one really wanted to be seen socializing with an adult during school. Not when they had all of their friends around them, anyway.

It was always so nice to be back at Hogwarts. The atmosphere was pleasant nowadays, and there wasn't an overly large population of just males, much to his daughter's delight. With Voldemort gone and dead, everything was shaping up. At Hogwarts, it was easy to see the improvements. The paintings were back up in the halls, the students were loud in the hallways, and there was more of a variety within the teenage population. Though he hated to admit it, Draco was proud that the other four houses had filled up considerably, and were no doubt giving his old Slytherin house a run for its money in events. That's what school should have been about, anyway.

"Hello, Malfoy."

Draco was pulled away from his thoughts as Neville Longbottom made his way down the hall toward him, a rather ugly looking plant in his hands. Draco grinned at his old enemy, "Longbottom... Need any help with that?"

The pot seemed extremely heavy, yet somehow old dumpy Neville Longbottom was strutting along with it, obviously proud of the hideous thing. The dark haired man smiled, "No... Just taking this one up to the Hospital Wing. She'll be good for Sleeping Draughts. Here to see Hermione?"

"Yeah, actually..."

It was nice to see that Longbottom didn't hold a grudge. Draco remembered that he basically tortured the man during their school years, and it was great that they could now laugh about it. Most of the time, anyway. There still some areas in which Neville was a little touchy about.

"Right, well, she's up in the library," the man informed him as he passed with the plant. "Tell her thanks for the Herbology texts... They turned out great."

"Will do."

Draco wrinkled his nose at the stench of the plant now that it was up close, but he didn't have to suffer through it for long, seeing as Neville was already marching along past him, clearly not one for lengthy discussions about how everyone was doing. Good - Draco got really bored during those conversations, simply because he didn't care about other peoples' families; he only focused on his own.

The library doors were wide open upon his arrival, and he could see the rare sunlight shining in through the massive windows behind the rows upon rows of bookshelves. Everything seemed a lot cleaner than he remembered, but both Hermione and the old librarian had similar views on how books should be dealt with. Several times he had heard stories about Hermione shouting at a student for manhandling one of her darling books from Shane, and Draco couldn't help but laugh.

He noticed the check out desk was empty as he entered, which meant Hermione was hidden away somewhere amongst the books. Damn; she was always a lot harder to find when she was away from her desk. As a group of first years entered behind him, their voices lowering considerably once they were over the threshold, Draco spotted something that was quite amusing.

Ronald Weasley was currently lounging lazily over a plush green chair, his feet dangling over an armrest as he stared at a book. For a moment, he frowned, and then turned the book sideways, a sudden look of understanding crossing his facial features.

Snorting to himself, Draco casually sauntered over to the redhead, "Ron Weasley? In the library? But it's not raining outside..."

Ron flinched upon being spoken to, and Draco smirked as the redhead's surprised look turned into a scowl, "Oh ha ha, Malfoy... I'll have you know I read a lot."

"'Course you do," Draco chuckled, reading the title out loud. "Muggle Art of the Twentieth Century. ... Well, that's certainly fascinating, Weasley."

Ron snapped the book closed, his cheeks a little red, and he sat up properly, "What're you doing here, Malfoy? I thought you worked at the Ministry."

"I do," Draco mused, shrugging his shoulders. "However, I am taking Hermione out for something to eat."

"Oh. Well then..."

"Is she around?"

"Helping some little third year find a good book on Transfigurations, or something," Ron answered, running a hand through his shaggy red hair. "She'll be back in a few minutes."

Draco nodded, and then took up residence in the seat beside Ron, smoothing out the front of his dark green cloak with a pair of gloved hands. Annie had commented that he looked quite a bit like his father when she saw him getting ready to leave. He guessed that was true, but he didn't carry around that silly little cane, so at least there were some differences.

"So..." Ron sighed, as though he thought that he needed to fill in the silence with pointless conversation, "How are you and Hermione doing?"

"Good," Draco responded, a little shocked that _that_ was the question that had come out of his mouth, "really good. I... Well, I plan on making it a little more serious pretty soon."

"Yeah?" Ron mumbled, flicking through the pages of his book absently, "How you doing that?"

"Well," Draco felt a giddy smile come to his lips, the same one that came every single time he thought about this, "I think I'm going to ask her to marry me soon."

He heard Ron rip the top of a page upon turning it a little too harshly, and he glanced over at the Weasley, who was staring at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, "What?"

"It's a little soon, isn't it, Malfoy?" Ron stammered, shutting the book completely and tossing it on a nearby table, "I mean... Didn't you two only _just_ start dating?"

"No," Draco replied, his frivolous smile fading a hint. "It's been almost three months... No, four."

"See, you don't even know how long you've been dating!" Ron argued, angling his body on the large chair to face Draco, "I'm not trying to talk you out of anything, but I don't know if Hermione is ready for that yet."

Draco shot him a small glare. He wished the redhead would butt out, seeing as he had a chance to marry Hermione, yet he chose Luna Lovegood instead. Honestly, who makes that sort of choice? Ron's mistake was waiting for too long. Draco wasn't like that, and if he wanted something, he got it right then and now. Besides, they didn't need to have the actual wedding in a week from that day, but if Hermione had a ring on her finger, for some reason Draco felt as though he would have a large boost of confidence on their relationship.

Not that they had a rocky relationship, but there was always a chance that Hermione could have just saw this as "dating", when he really wanted her to see it as the start of a lifetime commitment.

"Oh, look, it's my two favourite boys," Hermione cooed as she stepped out of a bookshelf, several large books in her hands.

Draco was on his feet instantly, ignoring Ron's last comment and going over to lighten her load, "Hello, love."

She leaned up to meet his lips in a quite kiss, though he wanted nothing more than to push her up against the bookshelves and have his way with her. They hadn't really... done much lately. Apparently Hermione was too tired at the end of a full day of work, and now that Draco was tending to four kids on his own with only _one_ house elf (His old one, Dobby, had agreed to come back to work for pay. Draco figured Harry's insistence had a lot to do with it.), he was also quite exhausted at the end of the day. They needed some... romantic weekend away, where all they had to do was stay in a room and shag.

Draco grinned at the thought, and figured he could bring it up during lunch.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, or anything," Hermione mused as he carried the books over to her desk, "but what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to whisk you off to Hogsmeade for some lunch," he informed her, cutting off all forms of arguments with another kiss. "Ah ah ah, no arguing. It's past noon, and neither of us have eaten... It won't kill you to leave for an hour."

"But-"

"Ron's here," he laughed, cocking his head toward the man. "He can help students if they need anything."

"What?"

"Oh, would you, Ron?" Hermione implored, her eyes basically lighting up, "I won't be gone long... Just tell them I'm out, and all you have to do is make sure no one breaks anything."

"But... I... Fine," Ron grumbled, picking up his art book and opening it moodily. "But you owe me, 'Mione."

"Fine," she sighed, rolling her eyes at Draco as she grabbed her cloak from the back of her chair. "See you later."

Ron grunted a farewell, but kept his eyes on the book. Draco smirked triumphantly, and then wrapped his arm around Hermione's hips, dragging her up close to him and doing a Joint Apparition to take them away, off to the village near the school.

He hated doing that, but he just wanted to grab her and get her out of there. They arrived in an empty strip of land, no more than a few feet wide, between two shops, and as Hermione gathered herself together, Draco leaned her back against the wall of the shop, claiming her lips for his, just for another couple of minutes. She released a loud giggle, and then threw her arms around his neck, letting out a sigh of contentment as she kissed him back with the same amount of vigour. Draco knew his girlfriend was shy about public displays of affection, so he chose a secluded spot to land in, seeing as he definitely wanted more than just a peck on the lips for a greeting.

She tasted like tea, and smelled like vanilla, quite possibly his new favourite mix. His hands rested firmly on her hips, and as gently as he could, he slipped one inside her brown cloak, and then up her shirt. Hermione squealed a bit, and then broke the kiss, "Draco! Control yourself! What if a student saw me doing this?"

He rolled his eyes, and then gave her another quick kiss on the lips, removing his hand from under her shirt and helping her straighten herself out. Once that was finished, they clasped hands and headed out of the little alley, into the main section of Hogsmeade. There were students everywhere, seeing as Harry had now given anyone in fourth year an above free reign to wander the village whenever they saw fit. According to Eloise, Headmaster Potter thought students were less likely to sneak out if they were allowed to go anytime they wished. Smart man, that Potter.

The snow that had fallen the night before was melting already, which made the ground slushy and wet. Not that Draco really minded; he was out with Hermione, and that made him the happiest bloke in the world. His father said he was lovesick, but he didn't care.

"Oh, look!" Hermione said suddenly pointing out Harry with her free hand, "There's Harry!"

Potter's green eyes flickered over toward the two, and Draco smiled a little as he marched over, stepping around a group of students, "Afternoon, you two... Out for something to eat?"

"I had to drag her out, but yes," Draco answered, pulling her back into him affectionately. His girlfriend shot him a playfully annoyed look, and then turned her attention back to her best friend, "What are you doing out here? Lunch, too?"

Merlin, he hoped Hermione didn't ask Harry to come join them. Potter seemed to catch his worried eye, and he laughed, "No... I'm meeting with a new teacher. Interviewing her, more like it. She's up for the Divination job. I figured a friendly, public environment would be better than her coming up to the school."

"Brilliant, Harry," Hermione beamed. "Good luck with her... Let's hope she's not a phoney."

Draco knew she was talking about Trelawney, and both men let out deep chuckles at Hermione's obvious dislike for the woman. No one quite knew where she was now, but the last time Draco had heard of the crazy lady was that Voldemort had taken her, and that was that.

They bid Potter goodbye, and then started off toward a homey little pub near the opposite end of the village, off to enjoy their lunch in peace.

* * *

><p>Harry scratched at the back of his neck anxiously, glancing at the clock near the rear of The Three Broomsticks. They had fixed up the pub a bit since Harry became Headmaster, though there was still a lot to do, and he had only been in the powerful position for a month or so. Well, coming up on two, but who keeps track of these things anymore?<p>

This woman was supposed to be good, though Harry was a little sceptical, because according to her resume, she was extremely young. But compared to his old Divination professor, most people seemed young. She was in her late twenties, and had taught at a private boarding school in Wales, one strictly for young witches. They only took the best, according to their boasting reputation, and Harry hoped he wouldn't be meeting some stuck up cow.

He had her resume before him, and he was reading it once more while waiting for her to show up, his glass of water sitting beside his left hand as his eyes ran over the writing. She had been teaching for six years, and went directly into that field after she graduated from Beauxbatons. Apparently she moved to England around the same time, and perfected her English in the process. She is now fluent in French, Gaelic and English, and an acclaimed Divination expert, though she does not state anywhere that she has Seers in her family.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry glanced up after jumping a little, clearly shocked to be disturbed from his thoughts so abruptly. His eyes then landed on one of the most gorgeous women he had ever seen. She had lovely blonde hair, trailing down her back neatly in wavy locks. Her skin seemed absolutely flawless, with no hints of a blemish or freckle in sight. The most startling feature, he thought, were her crystal clear blue eyes.

"Ms. Harries," Harry greeted, standing up quickly and hoping he hadn't appeared to be staring at her for too long. "Welcome to Hogsmeade... I hope you found the pub easily enough."

"Well, it was a little difficult, but my cousin Fleur gave me a few nice pointers... and call me Ophelie, please," she replied, accepting his hand and shaking it firmly.

Harry froze, "Fleur? As in... Fleur Weasley?"

"Yes," she chuckled, nodding her head a few times, "Fleur told me to mention her to you... Do you know each other?"

"She's married to my best friend's older brother," Harry informed her, grinning broadly. "But... Uh, take a seat."

No wonder she was such a sight to look at; the woman was part Veela. Well, should he take her, he had a feeling there would be an influx of male students signing on to take Divination.

"Well, let's get started on this, shall we?" Harry suggested, flagging a waiter down, "Order whatever you like; it's on me."

"But of course," she mused, "I'll have a water, thanks."

Hmm. Well, at least he wouldn't have to fork out a large chunk of change in order to keep her happy. Smiling a little, Harry folded his hands together and set them neatly on the table, "All right, mind if I start with a few questions?"

"Not at all..." she laughed, looking like a woman who knew she was beautiful, "That's what I'm here for, isn't it?"

"Right," Harry chuckled, "Uh, first question is I need to know how you stand with the new Ministry. Were you someone who agreed with Voldemort and his ways?"

"Well, no, I suppose not," Ophelie replied, smiling at the waiter as he set her drink down. The young man grinned back bashfully, but scuttled off after Harry shot him an annoyed look. "I never grew up with Voldemort, you know, living in France. We heard of him, but I think it was more of an English issue. Once girls were sent out of Hogwarts, we took them in while in Wales... But most of the time we were out of the way."

"Ah..."

She hadn't really answered his question, and she must have gotten a hint of that, because she went on, "But no, I would never say I aligned myself with him, nor did I believe in what he and his followers preached."

"Good," Harry muttered, making a little note on his piece of parchment. "Next, what is your take on children?"

"That's a very open ended question, Mr. Potter," she said, recrossing her legs under the table and pulling off a piece of lint from her silk blue shirt. "I deal with them as individuals, not as a group. They need certain needs met, but I have no problem on being tough on the ones that are acting up in class. I may be young, but I know how to control children, especially rowdy ones. I'm open to all ages, and I know how to talk to children."

Harry nodded several times during that little speech, "Good. Now, many of our students suffered heavily under Voldemort's reign... Whether it happened to them personally, their friends, or their family, at least one in five have been hurt."

"I understand."

"That being said, we need to employ teachers who are willing to work overtime to help them with their emotional problems," Harry continued. "Is that something that would bother you?"

A lot of his students had signs of traumatic stress due to the war. It was a little difficult to handle sometimes, but he had to be patient with them. Everyone had some sign of trauma, and it was all very personal, unique with each individual. There were many evenings in which Harry sat for hours in his office, just listening to the problems students had back at home now that everything had blown over, and that it was difficult to adjust. He had one first year boy who came to see him at least twice a day to talk about how his mother had been killed. It was heart wrenching sometimes, but it wasn't as though Harry could turn them away.

"My door is always open," she said simply, her blue eyes staring across into his green ones. "Anything else?"

"Er, yes," Harry muttered, feeling a little self-conscious around such a beautiful woman. "Please tell me about how you got into the field of Divination."

"It was always my favourite subject in school," Ophelie explained, a hint of her French accent there as she spoke, but just barely, "I adored everything about it, and knew that it was the only thing meant for me. I am not a natural Seer, nor do we have any in our family. However, I am confident in other methods... Hydromancy, pyromancy, Tarot cards, tea leaves, mirrors... I've studied all known aspects of the craft most of my life."

"But you're so young," Harry countered, once again pondering how much credibility could be in her twenty-something years of magic.

Ophelie laughed, a nice clear sound that echoed in his years, "Nonsense... Age is but a number. I could give you a reading, if you'd like Mr. Potter."

"Call me Harry," Harry replied absently, "and that won't be necessary. Though it would be smarter for me to test you, we are in dire need of a Divination professor, and you're the only one that has applied."

"So I've got the job then?" she inquired, a knowing sense in her voice.

Harry let out a sigh, and then nodded, "Yes. I'll need to reread your letter of recommendation, but you are free to move into Hogwarts whenever you'd like. Though, contact me before you show up, and I'll make sure we haven't given away a room that's close to the Divination classroom."

"Wonderful."

"And I will be having someone in to monitor your classes for the first little while, simply because we did not go through a proper demonstration process here," Harry finished, rising from his chair with her and shaking her hand once more. "Aside from that, let me be the first to welcome you to the Hogwarts staff."

"Thank you, Harry," Ophelie murmured, picking up her silvery cloak from the back of her chair and swinging it around her shoulders. "I need to return to my home and set my affairs in order, though I will be in touch soon."

Harry nodded, and stuffed his hands in his pocket, not looking like a headmaster at all, but rather just some bloke who was too young for such a big responsibility. But, before she could leave, he had to ask one more question, "Ophelie... Did you know you were going to get the job?"

She smiled brilliantly, and pulled on a set of white gloves, her eyes twinkling, "Yes, but not because I predicted it."

* * *

><p>"How is your salad?" Draco inquired, shovelling in a spoonful of soup.<p>

Hermione looked up from her plate, and then grinned at her boyfriend, "Wonderful. They honestly make the best salads here. How did you know I loved this place?"

The salads were not wimpy like most would expect; no, they were layered, large, and full of all different sorts of vegetables, and a bit of cooked chicken. Absolutely delicious.

"I know enough about you to get by, Hermione."

"Ginny told you, didn't she?"

There was a pause, and then a sigh, "Yes."

Hermione let out a giggle, and then rubbed Draco's leg with her own under the table, "Not to worry... I ask your mother about things you'd like."

"Really?"

"Yes," she admitted begrudgingly, "I don't know any of your old friends, and while Ginny knows a lot, your mother knows you the best."

Narcissa was a lot of help when it came time to buy anniversary presents for Draco, which had been a week ago. They had now officially been dating for four months, and Hermione couldn't have been happier. He was taking it slow, like she had asked, but she was pretty sure he was going to start pestering her soon about moving back into his house. It wasn't as though she didn't like living with him, and she loved the children, but Hermione still needed a bit of personal space from time to time.

"I've got something to ask you, Hermione," Draco said suddenly, twirling his large silver spoon around in his dark soup. Her hazel eyes darted up to his, and she cleared her throat, "Can I go first? I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now."

Draco seemed a little taken back, which she expected, but he shrugged his shoulders anyway, not giving off a hint that he may be nervous about what she had to say, "Go ahead, love."

"Right..." Hermione started, setting her fork down and dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin, "Well, my parents are still alive."

She waited for Draco's reaction, and he frowned, "Erhm... Were they ever dead?"

"No, but I wasn't as close to them as I was before the war," she pressed on. "Lately, we've been catching up... I've been stopping by for a lot of dinners, and mum and I have been shopping..."

"Well, that's brilliant, Hermione," he chuckled, placing a large hand on her arm and rubbing her skin with his thumb, "but is there a point to this?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, and he quickly fell silent, "Sorry, go on."

Hermione took a deep breath, and then swallowed thickly, a little nervous for his response, "Okay, here's the thing. Mum and dad thought it would be nice if you and your parents could come up for the weekend. There's this celebration in my old hometown, and there's tons of festivals and such... They'd really like to meet you."

Draco sat very still for a long time, and then took a sip of his water, "They want my parents to come up, too?"

"Well... Yes."

"Ah," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, "and they're Muggles."

"_Yes_, Draco," Hermione snapped, hearing her own frustration strongly. "Look, if you can't handle the fact that my parents are Muggles, then we're going to have to reconsider-"

"Hermione," he crooned, gathering her hands up in his and bringing them to his lips, planting a small kiss on each one, "I don't have any issues that your parents are Muggles. However, my parents are a bit... old fashioned."

She felt bad that she had gotten so upset over nothing, but she had been worrying about this for quite some time now. Actually, for a two weeks, the time her parents had asked her to invite the Malfoys over to stay. They thought she was quite smitten with him, and wanted to meet the boy as soon as possible. Naturally, he came along with parents, and while Hermione tried to talk them out of it, they were insistent that they meet the elder Malfoys too.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Hermione said, exhaling deeply, "but please... It would mean a lot to them, and me, if you and your parents could come up. It's only for two days, and they really aren't that bad! We'd be out at the festivals, and then our parents can... er, bond?"

Draco let out a loud laugh, and then leaned across the table to give her a kiss, "I'll talk them into it. When would we be going?"

"This weekend, so we'd have to drop the children off at the Snapes?"

"Yes, I think that would be best. Shane won't like the idea that he's getting a sitter, but I'd feel safer with them with Uncle Severus and Ginny."

"Me, too."

Draco suddenly shot her this really strange smile, one that she couldn't quite place her finger on the meaning behind


	3. A Weekend at the Grangers 2

**A Weekend at the Grangers**

**Chapter 2: Persuasion**

* * *

><p>"She wants us to go <em>where<em>?" Lucius repeated dryly, staring over at Draco from the top of his newspaper.

Draco noted that his mother had shot her husband an irritable look, but Draco decided to speak up quickly before they started bickering, which would effectively get them both distracted from the topic at hand.

"Look, Hermione and I are dating, and we're going to be together for a very, very, very long time," Draco explained, mentally picturing a wedding ring on her finger. "She's met you... She comes over to see you, Mother, any time you ask for some assistance with something. Father, you actually like her, so why is this such a big deal?"

"They're _Muggles_, Draco," his father remarked, scoffing slightly as he closed the Daily Prophet and folded it in half before tossing it onto the coffee table in front of him. "How can you expect us to go live with them-"

"It would only be for a weekend," Draco argued, annoyed that his father was spoiling this for him. "There is this festival happening in her hometown, and they'd like for us to come down. It's not like you'd have to sit with them every waking moment. You and her father can go look at model ships!"

Honestly, this shouldn't have been so difficult. He couldn't understand _why_ they were fussing. Well, his mother wasn't putting up much of a fight. It was more of his father's protests that kept Draco arguing. Although he wasn't particularly excited about living with Muggles for two consecutive days in a row, he was willing to do it for Hermione. Besides, while they were there, he planned on asking her father's permission properly to ask his daughter for her hand in marriage. It occurred to Draco at lunch the other day that he would be really rude if he did not ask the Granger man for consent first. Not that he would have asked in the restaurant, or anything, but he had planned on asking Hermione to come out for dinner that evening, and doing it then with Champaign and roses and music... It would have been quite a scene.

"You do know," Lucius continued, his blue eyes narrowing slightly at Draco as he sat on the couch with Narcissa on the other side of the little wooden table, "that the Ministry is still firm on wizards not producing magic in front of Muggles. Although the Grangers, I'm sure, have seen sufficient amounts of magic, I do not want to have to explain to the Aurors why we were doing simple charms that are engrained in our everyday life in the presence of Muggles. It's not worth the trouble."

"Lucius, don't be ridiculous," Narcissa snapped, placing a hand on Draco's arm after she bookmarked her page in her novel. "I think it's a very good idea... We need to meet them. It's proper, and according to tradition. You were friendly enough with my parents before we started our courtship."

Urgh, Draco hated it when his mother made references to her dating life. It should have been a conversation that died once she and his father were married. But no - she had to bring it up at every opportunity.

His father rolled his eyes, "Come now, Cissa... Your parents _requested_ that I start dating you. This is a completely different situation."

"They only did it because they knew you," she replied haughtily, most likely irked that that was his response.

Draco groaned pointedly when his father focused his direct attention on her, and he cut the man off before he could open up for an argument, "Look. It's two days. Two bloody-"

"Draco, language."

Draco sighed once again, pressing his fingers forcefully on the bridge of his nose, "Two days of your time, Father... If it doesn't work out, then you can leave, though I think that will ruin any family gatherings we have in the future with the Grangers."

Lucius opened his mouth to respond to that, but it seemed as though the older man was at a loss for what to say. His mother though, as usual, jumped to her own conclusions, "Are you planning on making Hermione part of the family?"

Draco's cheeks flushed a rather pale pink, and Narcissa Malfoy turned in to face him completely, "You're going to propose, aren't you?"

"Er, yes, mother," Draco muttered, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I figured it would only make sense that we meet the Grangers, and then I could ask her father for permission to marry her... I had planned on doing it earlier-"

"And not have asked for his consent?" Lucius barked, causing Draco's grey orbs to snap up to the older man, "Nonsense... I wouldn't allow that."

"Then do you see why I need you both to meet with them?" Draco asked imploringly, "I need you both to give me some courage to stand up there with them, but I also want to make sure you four can tolerate each other before Hermione and I get married."

He was fairly confident in speaking like that. There were no doubts in his mind that Hermione would tell him no to his proposal, so he was safe with talking as though the inevitable was going to happen.

"And if we don't get along?"

Draco stared over at his father, silently begging him not to screw this up for him, "Then there will be some very awkward family dinners in the future, but I don't really care. Hermione and I _will_ be married, and if you and the Grangers don't get along, then that is on your head, not mine."

"Oh, of course we will meet with them."

"Cissa!"

"Hush, Lucius," Narcissa Malfoy snapped, shooting her husband a glare. "I want to meet them, and you're coming along, sour mood or not."

"Is this a poor time?" a nasally voice interrupted, one which Draco recognize all too well.

Draco looked over his shoulder, only to spot the two people who he needed to speak to next; Severus and Ginny Snape. He was carrying her cloak, and she was dusting a few bits of snow out of her hair as they entered the sitting room. Clearly neither cared whether it was a poor time or not. But then again, they had _both_ seen the Malfoys on worse days, and the fact that his parents were squabbling at one another was nothing completely new.

"No, this is as good a time as any," his mother beamed, rising along with the other two men to greet their guests. Draco wasn't really sure why his godfather and his wife were here, but he had a strange feeling they had been invited over for tea, or something.

Once the five had exchanged pleasantries, Lucius and Snape took a seat on the couch, while Draco offered Ginny his seat beside his mother as he moved to occupy the arm chair. While Narcissa ordered the house elf to make their guests some tea and prepare a tray of cookies, Draco took the chance to ask them about having the children over this weekend while he was gone.

"Listen, Uncle Severus, I was wondering if I could ask you two for a favour?" Draco pressed, ignoring the grumblings that emitted from his father.

His uncle raised an eyebrow, and then exchanged a quick glance with his wife, "What is it, Draco?"

"We are meeting with Hermione's parents this weekend-"

"Oh, Joan and Albert are lovely," Ginny stated, cutting him off completely as she turned to Narcissa. "Joan makes the most scrumptious roast you will _ever_ try-"

"That being said," Draco continued loudly, hoping to silence the redheaded witch before she engaged his mother in a lengthy conversation about food, "I was hoping you could take the children. I don't feel comfortable leaving them alone at home, mostly because of Annie.

Ginny cocked a red eyebrow, and then scoffed, "Draco, you want use to babysit Shane? I think that's a bit degrading for him..."

"Nonsense," Draco muttered, brushing the thought away with a wave of his hand. "He'll have homework to do anyway, or he'll spend his days with his girlfriend.. He's simply staying at your house to sleep. I don't worry about the three, but I don't trust them enough yet to leave them on their own."

His children were very responsible, and had held their own during the Third Wizarding War. However, he was still a new parent, seeing as he had only had them for around five months now, and he didn't want to leave his new babies home alone with Dobby. The house elf could use some time off, anyway. Draco had to treat him properly, or he'd leave, which was quite annoying.

"All right," Snape finally agreed, ignoring Draco's father's pleading looks. "We'll take them."

Excellent. Now Draco just had to inform his kids of what was happening, and then tell Hermione everything was set. She seemed a little worried about the weekend when he last saw her, and he hoped he could soothe her worries.

* * *

><p>Harry stood at the entrance gates of Hogwarts, awkwardly fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. Ophelie had sent him an owl the previous night, informing him that she would arrive with most of her belongings the next day sometime in the afternoon. She hadn't given him an exact time, which irked the man, but he simply chalked it off to her being frazzled about getting everything ready to move into the castle. Had she been a former student of Hogwarts, he probably would have just told her where her office would be located, and then ask her to pop up and see him in his office once she was finished. But, seeing as she attended Beauxbatons, and then taught at a private school in Wales, he couldn't let her just wander around the castle with instructions on a sheet of paper. What sort of welcome would that be? If anything, he needed to make sure his new professor stayed on board for at least a month.<p>

He had asked her to come to the gates, seeing as all magical wards were back up around the perimeters of the grounds. Students could apparate in and out of designated rooms in the castle, though they were not permitted to leave at any random mark. That was dangerous, to say the least.

He sort of wished Ron had come down to meet the woman with him. Not that he couldn't handle this on his own, but women, especially pretty ones like Ophelie, had a tendency to make him feel a little... nervous. The fact that she was part Veela did not help with matters either. Actually, if Ron was there, he may have been more trouble... The man was also a bit useless with overly attractive women. Best keep him with his class. Last Harry heard, he was teaching some first years how to properly mount a hovering broom, and then slip off without falling. His best friend was a better teacher than anyone would have given him credit for, and Harry had a feeling that fatherhood had smartened him up a bit.

There was a sudden noise from the trees to his left, and Harry quickly pulled out his wand, his green eyes surveying the scene closely. Within moments, Ophelie Harries swept out of nature, looking completely at ease with several large suitcases floating along behind her. The clothes she had chosen to wear today seemed more earthly, and she was covered in a dark green, little swirls of brown and gold thread etched along the hems and sleeves of her dress, from what Harry could see. Her cloak was a chestnut colour, matching the blonde in her hair rather nicely. It was a chilly day, the snow maybe a foot or so high, and her cheeks were a faint red hue.

"Harry," she purred, bringing her gloved hands out to shake his when she was close enough. "To be honest, I was not expecting a welcoming party."

Harry laughed awkwardly, not quite understanding what she meant, and quickly shook her hand, "Well, I'm afraid I'm all the welcome party you'll get... The students are still in class for another hour."

"Good," she mused, flicking her wand at her bags to make them catch up to her, "I have no intention of meeting any until I start class. My first class I will meet the ones who are genuinely interested in Divination, for the upperclassmen... The second one will be filled with boys who want to look at me."

"... Ah."

"I'm not boasting," she snorted, flicking her hair back elegantly. "I've foreseen it."

Yes, that made more sense. But judging by her looks and character, Harry had a feeling Ophelie was one to boast, even if it was just a little bit.

"Well, why don't I take you inside and out of the cold, eh?" Harry suggested, beckoning her to follow him through the iron gates of Hogwarts. She moved soundlessly behind him, her feet barely heard as they shuffled through the thin layers of snow. He glanced over his shoulder, and then slowed to a normal pace so they could walk together, "The Divination room is up in the towers... We used to have to climb up a ladder to get to it, but when we had a centaur for a professor, ages ago, we moved it into a normal room. Your sleeping quarters are attached to your classroom, though are completely hidden from students."

"Wonderful," was all she had to say to that. When Harry looked over at her, he noted that her blue eyes were feverishly darting around, most likely taking in everything about the wonderful grounds.

The castle was the same as it had always been, though it seemed cleaner and up to date after they repaired it from the epic battle that took place in the Great Hall.

"We had a much smaller school in Wales," she commented randomly as they both trudged up the stone path to one of the entrances. "It will take me some time to know where everything is."

"The basics are easy to find," he assured her, "and if you get lost, there are more than enough people here to help you find everything. Even if there are no _people_, most of the portraits like giving directions. Makes them feel like they're being useful."

She let out a laugh, though Harry could instantly tell she was only doing it to humour him, as it sounded a little forced. He frowned, though didn't comment on the matter.

Once inside, he led her with blatant ease through the hallways. Hogwarts was more his home now than it ever was, and every little passage was etched into his mind. Even if he was blind, his feet could lead him wherever he wanted to go, no issues at all. The corridors were basically empty, seeing as class was still in session, though there were a few older students wandering about in groups, especially if they had a study period. Not that any of them would study; Harry remembered his study halls when he was a student, and at first he wasted them away. Later on in the year they became needed more than anything else. They would realize that soon enough.

A loud sniffling interrupted his chain of thoughts, and Harry instantly spotted Hagrid and a second year Ravenclaw marching down the hallway. The little girl was clutching her hand, tears rolling down her cheeks, and Hagrid seemed a little stressed with the whole situation.

"Hello, Hagrid," Harry said loudly, causing the half-giant to freeze. "Ms. Weasley, what seems to be the problem?"

He recognized the girl as Percy and Penelope's second daughter, Gracie, who was a meek little girl, and enjoyed burying herself in the library to read. She and Hermione got along quite well.

"'Ello there, Harry," Hagrid chuckled, patting Gracie's head cautiously. "Jus' o' little burnt skin on this one..."

"That thing set me on fire!" Gracie wailed, stepping out of Hagrid's grasp and holding her hand close to her chest. "Look, Headmaster!"

Harry examined her red and raw hand for a moment, and then smiled the best he could, "It's nothing too serious, Gracie... Though I'm sure it hurts, you'll just need some ointment in the Hospital Wing, and it'll be gone in a moment."

"Really?"

"I promise."

She sniffled loudly, and then returned back to standing beside Hagrid, who seemed relieved. Once again, Harry questioned giving him his old teaching job back. However, he couldn't make Hagrid give up something he loved so much. It really wouldn't be fair.

He noticed Hagrid studying Ophelie, and Harry cursed himself for not speaking about her sooner, "Oh, Hagrid, this is Ophlie Harries, the new Divination professor."

Turning to Ophelie, he extended his hand toward the massive man before them, "Ophelie, this is Rubeus Hagrid... He teaches Care of Magical Creatures."

"Charmed," Ophelie murmured, nodding her head slightly toward his friend before glancing down at Gracie, who was still sniffling. "Your hand will hurt for the rest of today, even after the ointment, though come tomorrow morning you won't be able to tell you even burned yourself."

"Okay," Gracie whispered, apparently quite shy now that there was someone new in front of her.

Hagrid nodded his greeting, though Harry could tell he was a little annoyed that she hadn't acknowledged him properly, and then continued to usher Gracie down the hall in the general direction of the Hospital Wing. Once they were gone, Harry turned to her, "I thought you said you weren't a Seer?"

"I'm not," she replied, squaring her shoulders. "However, what I told her is generally what happens with burns."

"Yes, but-"

"There's no sense in telling her the pain will be gone in a moment when it won't be," Ophelie stated, cutting him off abruptly. "Now, shall we continue?"

Harry was silent for a moment, and then started off down the hall again. He didn't like her attitude at that point in time. Hopefully she would still be the polite, caring woman he had met for lunch a day or two earlier. And if she didn't want each and every member of the Hogwarts staff to think she was some cold cow, she would definitely need to lighten up.

* * *

><p>"Have a good weekend, Eloise!"<p>

I waved to a few of my friends as they hurried into a joint Floo fireplace, and grinned as they were quickly engulfed in a mass of green flames. Finally, it was Friday afternoon, and officially the weekend! School had been a bit tedious this week, and although I hate to admit it, I sort of miss lessons with Uncle Snape. I mean, yes, he could be a bit grumpy sometimes, but at least our days weren't as long. Plus there was always the odd chance that Ginny would come down and persuade him to let us have a break. Here, it was work work work work work until the day was done. My study hall is second period, at that...

Which is irritating. I mean, I come in, go to my first lesson, then have a massive gap between that and third period. I wish it was last period... Then I could call it an early day and be done with it.

I waited patiently in line for the fireplaces to free up. In the meanwhile, I felt someone watching me. It was that feeling that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Curiously, I glanced around the Floo Hall, only to find Darius Zabini watching me from a distance, his Slytherin badge contrasting my Gryffindor one completely. Wrinkling my nose, I looked away from him, and quickly cut in front of a bunch of first years to get away from him as quickly as possible. He's been really eerie lately. It's not that he talks to me a lot, or anything, but he is always 'watching' me. Today was not the first time I caught him, either... He does it when I'm studying in the library, or when Gryffindor and Slytherin share a class. Not only is it irritating, it's just creepy.

Upon my arrival into our new house, I nearly bumped into Kevin, who was hopping around on one foot in a desperate attempt to get his shoe off. I rolled my eyes, and then shrugged off my cloak, "Why don't you try untying the laces?"

"Shut up," he grunted, finally tugging the black shoe free from his socked foot. "See, it works... And now I don't have to redo it up when I out it on later."

"Ruins the shoes, that does Master Kevin," Dobby, our new house elf, snapped, snatching it away from my brother and untying the black laces. "Dobby doesn't want to have to fix them when they break... Hot chocolate is in the kitchen for the young Malfoys, and your father wants to talk to you."

"Thanks, Dob."

The house elf smiled broadly, as he always did when one of us thanked him, and then gathered up our cloaks to go hang somewhere. I liked the elf, though he and our father seemed to have some issues. Apparently he worked for the Malfoy family when Draco was young, and he wasn't treated very nicely. I'm surprised he came back, to be honest.

When my brother and I stepped into the kitchen, the large one that was quite similar to the one in the old house, we noticed that Shane was already adding massive marshmellows into his hot chocolate, while Dad was stirring something into his. Annie was on his knee, and she had a chocolate moustache. Clearly she was enjoying herself. Grandfather hates it when dad has her up on his knee, but apparently Draco Malfoy could care less of what his father thought now that we weren't living in their house anymore. I've noticed he is a bit more stressed lately, seeing as it must have been the first time he lived without his parents, but I thought he was balancing his job and home life very well.

"Hey, Dad," Kevin greeted, sliding into a chair next to him as I took up occupation of the seat beside my older brother, pulling a white mug of steaming coco toward me, and then snatching up a few marshmellows from the plate.

"Afternoon," Dad grinned, grabbing a napkin from the centre of the table and quickly wiping off Annie's mouth. She tried to squirm away from it, but once he was finished, she took another sip of her drink, and the very same moustache returned. Dad seemed to want to wipe it off again, but I snorted and told him there would be no point. Sighing, he tossed the napkin back on the table and relaxed in his chair.

I wasn't too sure why we were all randomly drinking hot chocolate together. Generally when we got home from school, all thereof us went into our rooms, and weren't heard from or seen until dinner was ready an hour or so later.

"Right, something is happening this weekend," Dad said finally, sitting forward and wrapping an arm around Annie's waist, his grey eyes flicking over each one of us. "My parents, Hermione and I are going to meet her parents... They've invited me and your grandparents to stay with them for the weekend."

"Really?" Shane inquired, raising an eyebrow, "Do we have to go?"

"Not this time," Draco replied, shaking his head. I heard Shane let out a sigh of relief; he's got a date with Sawyer Saturday night. Instead of ending it there, Dad went on, "You'll be staying with Uncle Severus and Auntie Ginny while I'm gone."

"What?" Shane and I exploded, our faces dropping at the idea of having a babysitter.

Kevin was silent, clearly not caring about the situation, and Annie let out an excited giggle, "We get to stay there all weekend?"

Ugh. The stupid tart loves going there - no wonder she's happy. Shane released a loud groan, and pushed his drink away from him, "Dad, me and Loo-"

"Eloise and I."

"... We don't need a babysitter," Shane went on, ignoring the grammar fix Dad had implemented, "I mean, I'm sixteen, almost seventeen, and Loo is fifteen... Kevin is thirteen! And we have Dobby here-"

"I think Dobby could use some time alone," Dad pressed forcefully. "Besides, you don't have to spend the entire day with your aunt and uncle... I just want you there for the night. I realize that you have a date with Sawyer... Eloise, are you meeting that boy?"

"That boy has a name, Dad."

"I know, but I refuse to say it until I like him," he murmured murderously, and I rolled my eyes.

They still don't like Will. I mean, yes my brothers are back to being his friends, but anyone older than twenty finds him completely useless, and is always trying to tell me that we shouldn't be dating.

"No, I don't have anything planned with Will this weekend," I snapped as he glared at me. "I planned on getting my homework done."

"Good, then you can do it at the Snapes."

Urgh. I took a sip of my hot drink, and then stared moodily at the table. It wasn't as though I didn't enjoy spending time with my aunt and uncle, but the whole idea of having a babysitter is just... degrading. This hot chocolate was probably just to soften the blow.

Dad ran a hand through his hair, and then sighed, "I want you packed by tonight... You'll be leaving sometime tomorrow morning."

Hurrah. I glared down at my hot chocolate, only then realizing he had planned on using it to soften us up. He seriously still needed to learn something about parenting - hot chocolate generally stops working on children once they hit puberty.


	4. A Weekend at the Grangers 3

**A Weekend at the Grangers**

**Chapter 3: Friday**

* * *

><p>To say Hermione was nervous would probably be a massive understatement. When she told Draco that she wanted her parents to meet his, she had done so at the request of her parents, not out of a personal wish. It wasn't to say that she did not want to Malfoys and Grangers to officially meet at some point, but now she felt as though it was too soon. Yes, she and Draco were no doubt progressing magnificently in their relationship together, but she wasn't exactly sure now was the time to introduce the families. After all, they were completely different from one another. The Malfoys were privileged, while her family never appeared much higher than the middle section of Britain's middle-class. The Grangers were earthly people, who enjoyed camping and making bonfires in their backyard, along with high levels of interactions with their neighbours. Meanwhile, the Malfoys had probably never slept in the woods once in their lifetime, and from what she could tell, there were no neighbours for miles.<p>

Although she had come to adore both Lucius and Narcissa, for different reasons, mind you, they were snooty, arrogant, and tended to believe their way was the right way. Her parents were a little more flexible, but still ignorant to wizarding customs. She could only hope that Draco would step up and help her mediate between the two sets of parents in a way that would make this trip enjoyable for everyone. Her boyfriend had changed completely from his unruly years as a teen, and Hermione had watched him progress into a wonderful father over the past few months. Hopefully, he was ready to be an adult when it came to her parents, and concede them to think they knew better from time to time. Despite all his chances, he was still notoriously stubborn, and the only person worse than Draco was his father.

Merlin, what was she doing?

As she strode up the front steps of the Malfoy Manor, opting to go straight there rather than dropping by Draco's place first, Hermione couldn't silence her thoughts. They screamed horrible things in her head, and she had to really concentrate and remind herself that she was probably overanalyzing everything.

When she stepped inside the manor, the Malfoy's house elf was quick to greet her, and offer to take her coat. However, she waved Kille aside and told her they wouldn't be staying long. As always, Hermione thanked the little creature, and she scuttled off happily back toward the kitchen. In a perfect world, they wouldn't have a house elf anymore, but they treated her better than some families did, and that was progress. Draco employed Dobby in his home to do work, but the key difference was that Dobby was paid, and had the option to leave whenever he believed he wasn't being treated fairly.

"Hermione!"

The young woman looked up and spotted Narcissa descending the staircase, a suitcase floating elegantly behind her. There was already a stark difference between the two of them based on their choice of outfits alone, and Hermione knew this was going to be a long trip. While Hermione had opted for something discreet, like a pair of Muggle jeans and a white baggy sweater, pair with some fall black boots, Narcissa looked every bit the wizarding matriarch she was. Clad in a lovely dark blue dress that gathered at the side to emphasize her small waist, she looked more like she was going to a fancy dinner party than to the Granger household.

"Oh, darling," she cooed as she got closer, and then cupped Hermione's face, "you look so stressed. Did you sleep all right last night?"

"I… Well, I am a little nervous for this weekend," Hermione admitted, knowing quite well that Narcissa would probably see through a lie. "I just want it to go well. It could go so… so very wrong."

"Nonsense," Narcissa chuckled, her eyes twinkling with a gleam of anticipation. "We're all adults here."

She paused, and almost appeared thoughtful for a moment, and then added, "I will do my best to keep Lucius in line."

"Thank you," Hermione breathed, nodding back to the staircase when she spotted the two Malfoy men following in Narcissa's footsteps with suitcases hovering behind them. She couldn't help but notice that their luggage was obnoxiously big for a weekend trip, and she cleared her throat, "Just remember that my parents don't have a really big house… You might find your bags to be a little bulky."

"We are wizards, Hermione," Lucius commented as Draco crossed the room to kiss her cheek. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

"Nothing in front of your parents though," Narcissa reminded him, her tone more of a warning for her husband than a comfort for Hermione. "Have you performed magic in front of them before?"

"Well, no," she replied. "If I did it during school, I would have been fined for underage wizardry outside of Hogwarts… and after that I had the trace on me, and I haven't really seen much of my parents until the war ended, so I haven't had many opportunities."

"And none of us are going to spoil that," Draco insisted as he rubbed her back. "Don't worry."

Hermione managed a smile for him and nodded, "As a precaution, perhaps you should shrink your suitcases now… Or, if you'd like, you can put them in my bag. It's bottomless."

She held up her small velvet purse for the Malfoys to examine, but Lucius opted to shrink them and set them in the deep pocket of his cloak. As they did so, Draco gripped her arm and looked her dead in the eye, "It'll be fine."

"I know, I'm fine," she insisted, forcing her smile to hide her lie. He arched a blond eyebrow, impervious to her tricks, but said nothing. Instead, he summoned his cloak and wrapped it around his body. Thankfully, Draco looked more Muggle than his parents did, and Draco, in the end, was going to be the one that mattered.

"How are we getting there, Hermione?" Lucius asked as he pulled on a set of leather gloves, cane tucked under his arm characteristically, "Do you have the coordinates to apparate?"

"Oh, no," Hermione replied. "I've made a portkey for us, just to be safe. We'll be landing in my backyard back home. It's a completely non-magical neighbourhood, and I didn't want to risk someone spotting us appear out of nowhere in the front."

"Good thinking, love," Draco praised, and she shot him a look. Hermione knew he was just trying to calm her nerves, but she didn't need him jumping on every idea like it was the most brilliant thing ever. For some that might have worked, but for a woman who had been exceptionally intelligent her entire life, it almost felt a little degrading.

"All right, well I believe we have everything," Narcissa sighed as she too pulled on a white set of gloves to match her lengthy trench coat. "Shall we?"

"Yes… Let's… Let's get this weekend started," Hermione agreed as cheerfully as she could, and then retrieved a small leather notebook from her bag. She opened it to the very middle, and then held it out for the Malfoy family to grasp. Once all three of them were on, the magical transportation device hummed to life, and the Malfoy Manor foyer suddenly became a blur of colour as they whizzed out.

When their feet touched ground again, it was against the cold, hard earth in Hermione's old backyard. As she gathered her bearings, she realized that the sun had almost just set, but she had also never noticed how many windows from neighbouring houses looked into the back garden in which they had arrived.

"Maybe we should have waited until it was dark?" Hermione murmured as the Malfoys adjusted themselves after the quick journey.

"Doubt people have their noses pressed up against the window looking into _your_ back garden," Draco chuckled as he smoothed down his hair, which he had recently cut short. She preferred it short. Anyway. Clearing her throat, she turned back to his parents.

"Are you all right?"

"That was a very good portkey," Lucius said, appraisal in his voice as he smoothed down the front of his robes. Narcissa was studying her family's home, and for once, Hermione found it a little difficult to fully engage her facial expression.

Finally, she met Hermione's gaze and smiled, "This home is very… quaint."

Ah, there was the snobbery that Hermione had been expecting. She looked back at her two storey townhouse, and realized that literally nothing had changed since she left. The back garden still hugged the square fence that encompassed her backyard. There was a small porch off the back of the house, and her light blue and white house stood two storeys tall, with about six windows total on the rear end.

Instinctively, Hermione grasped Draco's hand as they started to walk forward, and frowned when he pulled it away.

"I'm already going to be the guy taking a daughter away," he murmured sheepishly. "So let's not put that picture in his mind."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes upward as she walked forward. It was just holding hands! It's not like they'd walk in the house and Draco would mark his territory, or something!

Speaking of marking one's territory… Lucius flinched violently as a white ball of fluff flew out from her hiding place beneath the barbeque on the porch, and Hermione was quick to snatch up her territorial cat before she shred the man's boots to pieces.

"Lily!" she cooed, her voice high-pitched as the cat squirmed in her arms, "Still such an angry kitty!"

"Luckily not a dead kitty," Lucius muttered angrily, lifting his pant-leg to ensure nothing had happened to his footwear. Although Lily, her family cat of nearly thirteen years, had settled in her arms, she still glared venomously at Lucius, her thick tail whipping back and forth dangerously.

"Forgot you liked cats," Draco managed as he gingerly gave Lily a pat. "She always like this?"

"Just with new people," Hermione replied when she noticed Narcissa eyeing the cat at a safe distance, "but she warms up once you don't smell so foreign."

Lucius scoffed, and Hermione feared this might set the tone for the trip. However, her apology was cut off when she heard the back screen door open. Her parents must have heard the commotion; she had instructed them earlier to pay attention to the backyard in the evening.

"Hermione!" her mother greeted happily, stepping outside in a pair of slippers as she embraced her daughter. Lily made a noise at being squished between them, but otherwise wasn't particularly fussed to be with her two favourite people.

"Hello, Mum," Hermione replied, awkwardly holding the cat and leaning in for a hug she couldn't return.

"How are you, darling? Safe trip?"

"As safe it can be," she insisted when her mum pulled away, a smile on her face. "Where's dad?"

"Just popped in the shower," her mother explained, tucking a piece of auburn hair behind her ears. "He went for a quick jog and wanted to freshen up before everyone arrived."

"We're a little early," Hermione lamented quietly, and then stepped back to reveal the Malfoy family behind her, "but I guess we can do some introductions now. This is my mum, Joan. Mum, this is the Malfoy family. This is Draco, Lucius and Narcissa."

"Thank you so much for having us in your home for the weekend," Narcissa said politely, her eyes friendly as she reached out and shook her mum's hand.

"Oh, it isn't a bother at all," her mum remarked in return, a smile on her face to reveal a perfect set of white teeth. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name."

"Narcissa," the blonde woman replied. "Wizarding names are a little more complex than Muggle names, from what I understand."

"Well, just a little less modern," Hermione said quickly when she noticed her mother's eyebrow quirk. She felt Draco place a hand on the small of her back as he stepped forward to take the attention off his own mother and greet Hermione's.

"I've heard so much about you, Mrs. Granger," he greeted formally, also shaking her hand, but without the gloves like his mother had done. "It's really a pleasure to finally meet you."

"I can say the same for you. Lovely to finally put a face to the name."

The group looked back expectantly at Lucius, and he gave Hermione's mother a small nod and smile, one that looked as though it was a little forced, "As my wife said… Thank you for your hospitality."

"It's really not a problem," her mother replied, and Hermione wished he would shake her hand, or something. However, she also had to remind herself, a little firmly, that Lucius Malfoy had been a staunch Muggle-hater for many, many years. Narcissa was the same, but she appeared a little more flexible than her husband. While she was grateful they made the trip, she had no idea how to explain their distant behaviour to her parents without making it sound awful.

"Why don't we head inside before we catch a chill?" Hermione suggested, decidedly ignoring Lucius' behaviour because she knew there was little she could do to change it. Her mother nodded, and soon the whole caravan was inside the Granger family home. The back door led them directly into the kitchen, which was pristine, as usual. Through there, one could find a formal dining area – generally used only on holidays and special occasions – and a first floor toilet. There was also a living room at the very front of the house, with a lovely fireplace and a television nestled beside a window.

Lily squirmed out of her arms as soon as they were inside, and dashed out of the room, Lucius keeping an eye on her as she went. Her mother looked the Malfoys over, and then frowned, "Did you bring anything with you? I do have spare clothes, but-"

"Everything is in miniature in my father's pocket," Draco explained carefully, "and we'd make them their real size, but the Ministry is really cracking down on magic performed in front of Mug-… Non-magical people."

Hermione arched an eyebrow, approving of Draco's switch between _Muggle_ and _Non-magical_. It wasn't as though the first was a particularly derogatory term, but it was something that, once again, her parents wouldn't really understand the full meaning behind it.

"Oh, well we have seen a little magic before," her mother insisted as Draco shrugged off his cloak. "We've taken Hermione to get her books on occasion for school in that… Dragon… Digon…"

"Diagon Alley," Hermione added helpfully, helping Lucius and Narcissa with their cloaks. "It's true you've seen it, but we don't need the accusations… I mean, the Ministry is fair this time around, but it's been magical law since the witch trials to keep magic to ourselves."

"That's fair," her mother smiled, taking all three cloaks. "Why don't I hang these, and I'll check on your father. I've just put the kettle on… Hermione, why don't you show everyone around?"

Hermione nodded as her mother vanished down the hallway, and she turned back to the Malfoys with a weak little smile on her face. Lucius was giving the kitchen a once over, and Draco was staring pointedly at his mother's hands, as she still hadn't taken off her gloves. She cleared her throat, "Narcissa, why don't you take off your gloves? You'll be much more comfortable."

"Oh…" she said abruptly, looking down at her hands and smoothing one hand over her fingers, "I hadn't noticed I still had them on."

The blonde slowly pulled them off, and Hermione took them with a wider smile. Draco rolled his eyes and shot his mother another very meaningful look, and then gave his father a light tap on the arm, which caused the older man to get rid of the look of disgust that was starting to form the longer he stood in the house. It was insulting, but Hermione continued to remind herself of his background. Hopefully, a weekend with relatively normal people might start to change their mind. After all, they had come to like Hermione – or so she liked to think – so there might be a chance for others too.

Before she could start listing the rooms on the bottom floor, Hermione heard footsteps rumbling down the old staircase and muffled voices down the hall. A few moments later, her father appeared in the kitchen, a wide grin on his face, and arms extended.

"Hermione!"

"Hi, dad!" she greeted warmly, happily stepping into his hug without a second thought. There was nothing better after some time apart from the family than getting one her dad's massive bear hugs. He may have gotten a little grey over the years, but otherwise barely a thing changed. Like her mother, Hermione's father Albert was lean, with greying hair that was once a lovely, warm auburn. He had worn glasses all his life, but thankfully Hermione had gotten her good vision from the maternal side.

"Dad," she said when she broke away from him, "I want you to meet my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy."

On cue, Draco stepped up, hand extended, and smiled the same charming smile that always made her weak in the knees. Her father gripped his hand firmly, giving it a few good pumps, "Good to meet you."

"Likewise, sir," Draco grinned, no doubt schooled by his mother to push through any nerves effortlessly. "Thank you for inviting us into your home."

"Well, it's not a normal relationship where I can see you all the time," her father explained. His smile was warm, though she noticed a shift in the way his eyes looked. "I figured this was the best way to meet everyone, particularly when a lot of people in your world aren't all that interested in crossing over into ours."

For a moment, both Hermione and Draco seemed to be at a loss for words, but Draco recovered quickly, forcing out another winning smile, "Times are changing, sir. Let me introduce you to my parents... Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."

Her father shook hands with both of them, though Narcissa looked decidedly more uncomfortable without her gloves on.

"Well, let's not just stand around in the kitchen," her mother insisted from behind her father. "Why don't you make the guest room a little homier for your stay… Feel free to unpack a little, and I can get the tea ready."

"Sounds lovely," Narcissa replied.

"Now, Draco… You and Hermione can fight over who sleeps in her bedroom, and who gets the pull-out couch in the living room," her father informed them, an eyebrow arched. For a moment, Hermione was taken back. She hadn't even really thought about where she and Draco would be sleeping while they were here for the weekend. When she stayed over at Draco's, they obviously shared a bed. They had been sleeping together ever since the war ended. Naturally, it makes sense that her parents wouldn't want them to sleep together, but it wasn't as if she was going to have sex with the man in her parent's house. That was just… uncomfortable. Heavy petting? Perfectly acceptable if quietly done, but having sex was completely off limits

"I wouldn't dream of taking Hermione's childhood room from her," Draco chuckled as he rubbed her arm. "I'll take the couch… No problem."

"Good lad," her father grinned, clapping Draco on the arm as he beckoned the Malfoys down the hall. "Come on, folks… I'll show you the guestroom."

* * *

><p>Although Narcissa could hardly believe she was sitting in the home of certified Muggles, she knew she had to make this work for the sake of her son's relationship. Had this been a different time, there wouldn't be a chance in hell that either of the Malfoys would have given Hermione and her family a second look. Perhaps not even a first look, considering how they dressed. However, after watching Draco's love develop for this girl with an unfortunate background, Narcissa decided long ago that every effort needed to be made to ensure her little boy's happiness.<p>

The Grangers were not terrible people. Their social graces were lacking, but that could be expected of people in the middle classes. Her room for the weekend was adequate, but it was the size of her master bathroom. For now, it would due; at least she wasn't going to be sleeping on some lumpy pull-out bed in the living room. Although Draco hadn't said a word against it, she knew he was going to be in a mood the next morning when he wakes up with a sore back. Lucius had been exceptionally quiet for most of the trip so far, and had only spoken to explain how he liked his tea, and when he thanked Joan when she delivered his tea. Otherwise, he was nearly silent.

Hermione's parents were polite enough, and spent a long time asking Draco about his school years, his current job, and what his plans for the future were. He answered everything effectively, in a way that would make the parents of his girlfriend happy. If this had been in Narcissa's era, all of this would have been done differently. The patriarchs of the family would sit down, discuss the potential courtship, and after everything was hashed out, the two children would start dating. Draco and Hermione had, essentially, done most of this backwards, and perhaps that was why Narcissa and Lucius felt a little out of sorts. That and they had no idea how any of these Muggle appliances worked. Joan had heated up the water for tea on something called a stove, and it took a great deal longer to boil the water than if Narcissa would have just used a simple heating charm.

They really ought to make special allowances for magical use in front of Muggles who have magical children. After all, they aren't ignorant of the magical world, and it almost spoils the child needlessly if they can't practice magic at home. Besides, magic was just so much easier. However, with the no doubt monumental file that the Ministry had on the Malfoys already, Narcissa had no intention on adding to it for performing something that could easily be done by hand. She couldn't have the same hopes for Lucius, who had been sitting in an easy chair across from Albert for the past two hours, jaw clenched, tea barely touched, and a seemingly irritated look on his face. They had made eye contact only briefly, during which Narcissa tried to express her annoyance with his sour mood, but nothing seemed to get through. Perhaps he would need a good talking to tonight to ensure the rest of the weekend did not look like this.

If Narcissa could do it, Lucius was certainly able to as well. Honestly, he was a grown man fully capable of managing his feelings.

"So now," Narcissa said after a moment or so of everyone taking a rather long time to sip their tea or nibble on a biscuit, "Hermione tells me you both work with teeth. What was it called again?"

"They're dentists," Hermione reminded her, and she nodded.

"Ah, yes. Tell me about that… It sounds… fascinating."

Well, laying it on a little thick, but that was what Narcissa was known for. If anyone could handle any social situation, it was Narcissa Malfoy.

"Well, it can be pretty interesting," Joan admitted. "Usually we deal with a lot of children at my clinic, but Albert is also an oral surgeon."

"Oh? And what is the difference?"

"I handle regular check-ups, and he does as well," the sinewy woman continued, tucking some of her thick auburn hair behind her ears, "but Albert is allowed to perform more difficult surgeries in his clinic… Removing teeth and other procedures that require us to put people under heavier sedation."

"Oh my," Narcissa marvelled from her spot next to Draco. "That does sound like it keeps the day a little more interesting."

"Hermione has told us you don't have dentists… What do you do to care for your teeth?"

"I don't think we've ever really considered them different from the rest of the body," Narcissa replied, her tea cup resting neatly on the little plate, which balanced effortlessly on her lap. "So we go to the hospital, St. Mungo's, and healers there will deal with any problems."

"And cleanings?" Joan asked, "Most people need to come in twice a year for us to remove plaque and whatnot…"

"With Draco, we always had them do a quick cleaning spell during his general medical check-ups," Narcissa remarked, trying to think if they had ever done anything differently. "Otherwise a simple cleansing charm can be performed at home whenever we wish."

"Fascinating!"

Narcissa took another sip of her tea, a little smug that she could keep up a successful conversation with a Muggle. If her parents could see her now, they probably would have hexed her into oblivion. Her dear old mother never tolerated a Muggle if they accidentally ran into each other in public, and she always claimed to know exactly who they were. In fact, many of their family friends were like that, but Narcissa was pleased to see times were changing, even if it was just a smidgen.

"Now, I don't mean to be rude," Joan started carefully, "but what exactly do you do for a living?"

Narcissa laughed, and brushed off the worry with a wave of her hand, "I am a housewife, and have been since Lucius and I were married. I was lucky enough to not need to work, and I could fully devote myself to raising my darling little boy."

Draco rolled his eyes slightly as she stroked his arm, and she knew she was embarrassing him a touch, but she had earned it. Being his mother for this many years meant she had free reign to do whatever she wanted with him, and if expressing her love was embarrassing, then so be it.

"Even when your husband was imprisoned for war crimes?" Albert inquired frankly, causing Narcissa to stiffen. She heard Lucius shift in his seat suddenly, and the gaze that had been fixated irritably on the coffee table had now turned to the man across from him.

"Dad," Hermione hissed, shooting him a look. The man arched an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, was that an inappropriate question? I thought it best to hash everything out from the start… No secrets, as it were. Besides, Hermione told us about your sordid past years ago when your son married one of her good friends. Mind you, we weren't really on the best of terms because she had to be in hiding, but I believe that was because the horrible man _you_ both supported wanted to see her dead. That's essentially how it went, right, Hermione?"

"Dad-"

"You _were_ one of the masked fellows who harassed us Muggles, weren't you?" Albert continued, his rampage keeping the room in a very tense silence as he spoke, "Must just kill you to sit in the same room with us now, doesn't it? Is that why you're so angry, _Lucius_, or is it because that's just what you're like on a daily basis?"

"_Albert_!"

Joan looked stunned at her husband's outburst, and Narcissa quickly came to the conclusion that the woman hadn't been in on his train of thought from the start. When she looked at her own husband, she saw that Lucius' gaze had shifted from enraged to a stone stillness; one that she knew could erupt into a volatile nightmare at any moment. Hermione's cheeks were bright red, but she said nothing, while Draco also kept his eyes on Lucius, no doubt ready to pounce should his father make a move.

"You'll have to understand," Albert continued, his tone sounding as though this was all some ridiculous joke, "that I can't just sit back and talk about dentistry with people who would have loved to see my daughter staked in a pit during that war. This needs to be put out there, and it may as well be now."

"I suppose," Lucius started, his lips barely moving as he spoke, "you have never once made a mistake in your youth?"

"Oh, don't give me that-"

"I suppose you have never made a mistake ever?" Lucius continued, cutting the man off sharply, "What from that ridiculous sweater to your haircut, everything in your life has been perfect. No horrible drunken nights as a teen, no fights with your wife, no botching a meal… Nothing has ever gone wrong for you?"

"Lucius," Narcissa started, fully intent on telling him that they may as well leave. This clearly wasn't the right time for everyone to meet; nobody was prepared to face one another. However, he ignored her and carried on, shifting himself to the front of his chair so he was closer to Albert.

"My wife and I were raised in a society in which your kind is considered the lowest of the low. My parents taught me that, as did Narcissa's, and their parents taught them the exact same thing. _Generations_ of wizards, not just my family, were conditioned to hate anything that was not magical. A man came to power when I was a teen, and he gave us an out. He promised a path for the rich, bored boys of my time to actually do something they believed in, and we jumped at the chance. We wanted change. We wanted to return to the old days, where wizards and Muggles were kept separate, because we believed _that_ was the key to the future. This man tormented thousands, and once you were in his service, there was no escape, besides death."

He paused, glaring at the Muggle in front of him, "If and when you realized that joining this man was a mistake, no matter how many years after that mistake happened… Would you, Albert Granger, take death to be rid of him? It was my only option. Would you do it and leave your wife and daughter to his hounds? I would not. My wife and I fully supported his cause because that's what we were raised to do. But times change, people change, and you start to realize utter chaos is not the way to bring about a new social order. At that point in time, there was _nothing_ I could do to pull back. But there were a few who did. Your daughter joined the resistance against a man … a man who most people were so terrified of they couldn't even say his name. By the time Hermione was severely persecuted, as she was, my family and I had only _just_ managed to separate ourselves from being part of hit squads and death camps. We took paper pushing jobs… I retired and provided services through my name alone. My family had _nothing_ to do with the way your daughter was treated. It is unfortunate that she endured it, but none of it was by our wands when the war was in full-swing."

Lucius settled back into his seat, point made, and added finally, "I have made a lot of mistakes in my past, and there are few things today I can say I'm proud of, aside from my family. If I hadn't done what I did, neither of them would be here today, and I suspect your daughter wouldn't either. My wife was the one who killed the Dark Lord… Perhaps that is something Hermione forgot to mention?"

He glanced over at Hermione, who still had flushed cheeks, and she looked away. Apparently that was one detail that had never been mentioned.

"Dad?" Hermione interjected tentatively, "I know I've told you some horrible stuff about the war, and I understand what you must think of the Malfoys, but they've been nothing but good to me since I came into their lives."

Albert sat in his chair tersely, and then licked his lips, no doubt contemplating his daughter's words. Narcissa understood perfectly what the man's intentions had been. After all, Hermione was his only child, just as Draco was hers. If someone had gone out of their way to make his life miserable, Narcissa would make it her life's mission to end them. Look at what happened to Voldemort; she did it out of pure rage for the Hell he put her family through. From the moment that man walked into their lives, nothing good had come from him. Yes, there was the certain prestige they held as a family, but that would have come from the Malfoy name regardless.

"Nothing excuses you from what you've done in the past," Albert said finally. Draco shifted next to Narcissa, and she could tell he was hanging on carefully to the man's words, "but I suppose the future could be different. I'd like to see it before I believe it."

She arched an eyebrow, but carefully schooled her features into an accepting smile. Never, in the past, would she have permitted a Muggle to speak to her like that, as if he had the higher moral ground. But once again, she reminded herself what this was for. Draco was over the moon about this girl, and she would do everything in her power to make him happy. If that meant catering to the slightly neurotic beliefs of a Muggle man every so often, Narcissa would do it. She cast a quick look toward her husband. Lucius had settled completely back into his seat and said nothing further, only to take a sip of his tea in acknowledgement to the man's statement.

This was going to be a very long weekend.

* * *

><p>Draco had never seen his mother and father try so hard with Muggles before. Not that the pair had ever really come into close contact with other non-magical people out there, but this was the most effort he had ever seen them give. Normally, with an outburst like Albert's, his father would have stood up, possibly hexed the man, and then left. However, he showed restraint, and preferred to talk it over with the man before resorting to violence. An excellent new face for Lucius Malfoy, though Draco had noticed this trend on the rise as his father got older. Naturally, his mother was excellent. Not only did she have a knack for changing the direction of conversation on a whim, she had a calming presence that usually settled any rising tensions within a room.<p>

Once they had finished tea, an excruciating process at best, the parents decided it was time to get dinner on go, and his mother helped out Joan in the kitchen with Hermione. Meanwhile, Draco and Lucius were left with Albert, and the three men stood outside awkwardly while Albert grilled on the Muggle contraption called a barbeque. Once the sun went down, it was bloody freezing out there, but they managed to get just close enough to the Muggle machine to keep warm, while at the same time not touch each other. Draco, at that point, was stuck facilitating conversation between his father and Albert, which was a daunting task. Thankfully, the meat grilled up quickly, and Draco directed most of his conversation around the meat and the process of cooking it. That seemed to keep Albert happy, or seemingly so, for a little while, and he seemed to take great pride in the colour and texture of the steaks when they grilled up nicely.

To be honest, Draco didn't care about meat. He didn't care about how to flip it, or when to stab it with the little fork thingy, or how long each side should cook for; he cared about Hermione. She was the apple of her father's eye, and he was going to be the one to win over if he intended to get a blessing by the end of the weekend. That was Draco's overall goal. Come Sunday, he planned to ask Albert for his blessing toward a marriage between himself and Hermione. Although they had gotten off to a rocky start, he liked to think that tomorrow would be better. He had to be optimistic, or this entire thing was just going to be a disaster.

Hermione was difficult to read all night. She had this forced smile on her face the entire time, and he could tell just by looking at her that she was tense. He had tried his best to help her balance their parents out, but it seemed increasingly difficult to gauge whether she wanted the help or not. So, he just did what he thought was right, and helped steer conversation whenever his mother was busy, aided in cleaning the barbeque after dinner, and joined Albert for a beer out on the back porch before bed. That time was spent discussing his children. The man seemed a little uneasy at the thought of Draco already having four of them, but Draco carefully explained exactly how much Hermione loved each one of them, and that they returned the feelings wholeheartedly. They were the ones that had the easiest relationship with the man's daughter, if anything.

Around ten thirty at night, the adults decided to call it an evening. It was obscenely early by anyone's standards, but Draco had a feeling everyone needed a little extra time to get a breather from one another. So, the Grangers retired to the master suite, his parents into the guest bedroom, and Hermione jumped in the shower quickly shortly after. Draco sat alone downstairs, wondering what his children were up to, and how he could make Saturday better than Friday.

He heard the shower upstairs stop running, followed shortly by footsteps down the hallway and the shutting of Hermione's bedroom door. He had only looked in it briefly on the overall house tour, but nothing about it surprised him. Her childhood bedroom wasn't filled with pink and stuffed animals. Instead, it was painted a neutral beige tone, and there were two bookshelves absolutely stuffed with books. She had a desk beneath a window, with a few Muggle electronic devices on it, and a twin bed at the other side of the room. Along with a wardrobe, a closet, and a laundry hamper, her room was relatively small compared to what he had as a boy. Considering the fact that this house could basically fit inside the Malfoy Manor without a problem, that wasn't entirely surprising.

Scratching the back of his head, he eased himself off the pull-out couch, which was in its bed state, and tiptoed upstairs. He understood why her parents didn't want them sharing a bed, but this was a little silly. However, he wasn't going to go against them and do something else to upset them, so Draco only planned to spend a few minutes up with Hermione, just to check on her. When he approached her door, he knocked softly and waited for a moment, and then poked his head in. He found her seated on her bed, head in her hands, wrapped in a towel.

"Hey," he whispered as he ducked inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. "Are you all right?"

"Today was… horrible," she admitted, and when she looked up, he saw her eyes gloss over with tears. "I don't know why I even agreed to this… I should have known it would be a disaster."

"Come on now," he cooed, taking a seat next to her and wrapping his arm around her bare shoulders. "Today wasn't bad at all. Yeah, we had a few rough patches, but we're all grown-ups, and we handled it just fine. "

She shot him a sceptical look, and he laughed lightly, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, "Look, it could have been much worse! Father could have whipped out his wand, your mother would scream, my mother would shout at him, and then our fathers would try to maul each other… Like Arthur Weasley and my father did at Flourish and Blotts that one day. Remember?"

Hermione brought a hand up to her mouth and giggled, eyes wide, "Oh, that was awful! Molly was livid with him afterward for causing a scene in front of Lockhart!"

"Ugh," Draco shivered, inwardly pleased that he had managed to make her laugh. "Don't mention that git to me… He was bloody awful."

"I had such a crush on him," Hermione admitted with a sigh, resting her head on his shoulder. "Too bad he was a fraud."

He fiddled with the tips of her wet hair as they settled into a comfortable silence. Hermione was the first one to break it when she pulled away from him, and took his hands in hers.

"We can do this."

"We can," he chuckled, giving her hands a squeeze. "You're Hermione Granger, smartest witch of your year, and a war hero. You can handle our parents."

"And you're Draco Malfoy," she countered, the corners of her mouth quirking upward. "War veteran and fantastic father… You're more than capable of handling this."

"See?" Draco mused, "This will be fine. Tomorrow will be better."

He paused, and then cleared his throat, "Erhm. What are we doing tomorrow, exactly?"

"There's a fair downtown that my parents go to every year," she explained, and he suddenly remembered her telling him this earlier, "and they thought it would be nice to bring your parents along. There's crafts and food and entertainment… I just hope your parents will be okay."

"Don't worry about them," he insisted, rolling his eyes a little. "They can be whiny, grumpy tosspots when they want to be, but I think they are seriously trying to make an effort here."

"I really do appreciate that," Hermione admitted. "I wish mine were better."

"Your dad and I had a great chat tonight," Draco added before she could lament anymore. "Don't worry… We had a good time, talked about the children, and I think I made up for wizards everywhere by telling him how I let Annie paint my nails on occasion."

Hermione grinned, "I'm sure he liked that image."

"Yeah… A notch off my manhood probably makes up for a little," Draco grumbled light-heartedly. He glanced at the clock, and then noticed her try to hide a yawn beneath her hand. With a smirk, he leaned forward and gave her a chaste peck on the lips. "Go to bed and stop worrying. I'm going to make sure tomorrow is brilliant, and by the end, your parents are going to love me. I promise."


	5. A Weekend at the Grangers 4

**A Weekend at the Grangers**

**Chapter 4: Saturday**

* * *

><p>All right. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when breakfast finished without a hitch. It seemed as though the horrible mood from the night before had lifted after a good sleep – though she was sure the Malfoys were <em>all<em> lying about theirs, considering they had the guest room (notoriously hard bed) and Draco had the couch. Regardless, they all put on a brave face for the first meal of the day, and Hermione grinned when her mum served her famous pancakes with a fresh array of fruits and sweets. This was definitely a meal that the Malfoys could enjoy, considering it was nearly by to their usual splendour with nearly every meal they served at the manor. Her father was much better behaved today too, though she could tell there were still some tensions between him and the Malfoy patriarch, but hopefully that might sort itself out over the course of the day.

Despite the fact that things had cooled off, Hermione still felt as though she was running on a tense energy that she hadn't been able to shake since Friday morning. Draco had reassured her that he would make things better as the weekend progressed, but that wasn't as reassuring as she had hoped it would be. Naturally, she let him leave thinking he had completely solved the situation, but she went to bed the night before with her mind going a mile a minute with ways she could change this weekend. Things needed to be less awkward between their parents, though there seemed to be a very limited number of ways to fix it. Sometimes, when people didn't get along, they never would.

"Are you all right, Hermione?"

Her mother's voice interrupted her daydreaming in front of the kitchen sink, where she had been finishing some of the washing up before they left. Everyone else was brushing their teeth, primping, and whatever else they needed to do before the day was out.

"I'm fine, Mum," she replied with a smile, setting the wash cloth down and a freshly cleaned plate in the drying rack. "Just thinking."

"My girl," her mother chuckled as she buttoned up her brown fall jacket. "Always thinking… What are you thinking about?"

"I'm sure you have some idea."

"Forget about yesterday," her mother insisted quietly. "I know it didn't go well, but breakfast was very pleasant, and we have the whole day ahead of us."

"I guess," she sighed, picking at her nails as she studied the outdoors. "Do you think it'll be too cold to be out all day?"

"No, should be fine," her mother replied. "The snow's melted from last night already, and you know they have more than enough hot food there to keep everyone warm."

"True," Hermione laughed. "I remember I was always so stuffed at the end of these festivals… It's like the welcoming feast at school. More food than you know what to do with."

She finally turned around when she heard the rumble of feet rushing down the stairwell, and she could only assume it was Draco. His parents wouldn't move that quickly, and her father had a different sounding stride when he ran down the stairs.

"That's a very nice coat, Draco," her mother complimented, her head poked out of the kitchen. "Are you sure you're going to be warm enough? Everything is outdoors."

"I'm a strong, strapping lad, Mrs. Granger," Draco chuckled as he approached the doorway, shooting Hermione a wink. "Strong, strapping lads would never complain about the cold."

"Oh really?" Hermione mused, her arms folded over her chest, "Is that so?"

Draco was one of the biggest wimps she had met when it came to the cold. He had a moan literally every time they were outside these days, and she knew it was only going to get worse once the winter was in full swing.

Draco cleared his throat, "Well… I…"

"There will be lots of warm food to make sure you stay that strong, strapping lad in the cold," her mother grinned, patting him on the arm. "Let me go see where everyone is… We don't want to wait in line for long."

"I _love_ when you embarrass me in front of your parents," Draco insisted sarcastically, shooting her a playful look. "In fact, I also _love it_ when you do it in front of mine… When will it be my turn?"

"Never," she remarked as she strolled out of the kitchen, placing a hand on his chest. "Not unless you want to suffer for it."

"Brilliant."

She laughed as he rolled his eyes dramatically, and then led him into the main foyer of the house so she could grab a coat. Although it looked similar to her mother's, Hermione picked a dark brown one out of the closet and slipped into it, noticing the way she and Draco contrasted in their styling for the day. As usual, Draco had a dark pair of slacks on, leather shoes like his father, and a black, somewhat fitted, coat. Hermione looked much earthier, with a pair of light Muggle jeans on, her brown suede boots, and the cuffs of a dark green sweater poking out from her sleeves. She chucked her hair up in a ponytail for the day, mostly because she knew it would be a pain to have her hair blowing all over the place at the fair.

"So this festival is kind of a big deal?" Draco asked as he leaned against the wall, hands in his pocket. She nodded.

"We're part of a smaller village outside the larger town, so it's more for the village than anything," Hermione explained. "Everyone comes out, and you pay a one-time fee and you can eat and drink as much as you want while you're there… And there are rides and games… It was always one of my favourite things to do when I was younger."

"Ah, so the nose wasn't always in the books then?" Draco inquired playfully. Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Only in school."

"Well, thank goodness for that," Draco mused. "Glad to know I'm not dating a total nerd- Ouch!"

Hermione pinched him sharply on the arm in response, knowing fully well she was still quite heavily in the books, even in her adult years, and nothing about that was going to change anytime soon. He smirked cheekily, aware that he had touched a nerve no doubt, and Hermione rolled her eyes. She might be a nerd, but at least she wasn't a little boy in a man's body. They looked back to the stairwell at the arrival of footsteps, and soon all four members of the parental generation were downstairs and ready to go.

"So," Narcissa started, her hair swept up into a very tight bun when Hermione's mother informed her of the high winds the village usually experienced. "How do we get there?"

"Well, we have the van," Hermione explained. "Everyone will fit in there, and we'll drive over… Perfectly safe and secure."

"Never been in a car before?" her father inquired light-heartedly, his tone with the Malfoys greatly improved from yesterday. Lucius shot him a look, and Hermione decided that it might take a little longer for the slightly older Malfoy man to come to terms with the previous day's events.

"Oh, Lucius has been in one," Narcissa said suddenly, as though it was the most brilliant thing ever. "He took a taxi with the children to the mall… Isn't that right, darling?"

"I did."

Draco rolled his eyes in Hermione's direction at his father's response, and then opened the door, "Do you mind if I sit up front, Mr. Granger? I would like to see how it all works."

"Not a problem," her father replied as he slipped into his windbreaker. "Maybe I can teach you to do some driving the next time you come for a visit."

Draco beamed at the man, "Sounds brilliant."

"Yes, then you can go teach Hermione how to drive," her mother added pointedly, making Hermione sigh. "Into her twenties now and she still can't drive."

"She is an exceptionally talented young witch," Lucius commented absently as he examined his nails. "I'm sure it will be something easy for her to pick up."

Hermione blinked back her stunned expression. Although Lucius hadn't been cruel to her for quite some time, it was always shocking whenever he handed her a compliment without a prompt. She noticed her mother smiling proudly, but she also knew that the woman would prefer her to excel at non-magical tasks as well as her magical ones. Maybe one day she would figure out how to drive, but that would require her to be in the Muggle world long enough to do so. If things continued the way they had been since the war ended, it seemed very unlikely she would need to return to this non-magical world anytime soon.

With everyone bundled up and warm, she followed the herd of people out to the car, and slid into the very farthest back seat with her mother, a little more eager now to get the day started. The village fairs were always a good time, and she hoped this year would be no exception, despite the presence of the Malfoy family.

* * *

><p>If someone told him twenty years ago that one day he would be standing in a sea of Muggles, in the blistering cold, while his son tried to woo the parents of a Muggle-born girl, Lucius would have laughed in their face, and then hexed them. Yet, here he was, jaw clenched, hands stuffed in his pockets, and steely eyes scanning the crowds around him for anyone that dared walk too close on a whim. Narcissa had given him a firm talking to the night before. They were going to be on their very best behaviour for the Granger family, despite Albert's ridiculous outburst from the day before, and that was that. If he had a problem with it, she would deal with him privately… Which was never a good time.<p>

He hated that his wife was so good at hiding her true feelings, because he knew perfectly well that she was just as uncomfortable being around all these Muggles as he was. Draco seemed perfectly at ease, having earned Albert's favour by playing the eager student as they drove here in that death contraption they called a 'van'. It was horribly uncomfortable, and smelled quite like the Granger house; like cat. Somehow, the stench got everywhere, and he would need the house elf to properly wash all his garments, and soak in a long bath, when he returned home tomorrow.

The fair was actually the only thing that didn't surprise him. In actuality, it wasn't much different than a wizarding fair, and he had been to a number of those over the course of his life, though nothing in recent years. There were food stands, at which the women gossiped over spices and cooking additives, game booths, private vendors selling goods, and a wide pavilion with benches and tables to enjoy a meal. He could see why Hermione enjoyed it so much as a young girl, and noted that there were dozens of families from the community present. It certainly would be something that Draco's children would enjoy, and he managed to make Joan a little happier with him and his sullen attitude when he brought the passing thought out in the open. She then invited them all back for the next festival, which would be at Christmas with a winter wonderland type theme, and while Narcissa eagerly accepted, both Lucius and Albert appeared less than pleased.

Narcissa was just being polite. Draco had an obligation to go, but the Malfoys had other family to see around the holidays as well, and Lucius was sure he could find something to use as an excuse to get out of it. In fact, he was positive something would come up.

Currently, he was standing back a little while Narcissa and Joan admired some clothing that a vendor was selling. Draco and Hermione had disappeared some time ago to fully explore the fair without stopping at every shop. Lucius and Albert weren't given that luxury, but Albert was detained by a family friend and had been for about ten minutes, which Lucius wasn't about to pull him away from. Instead, he stood there, staring through the shop and daydreaming about better things.

All of a sudden, he felt a presence return to his side, and a quick flick of his gaze made him realize Albert had finally returned. The two men stood next to each other quietly for a moment, and Lucius glanced down when the Muggle held out his hand, a beer bottle in it.

"Grabbed you one," he muttered as Lucius accepted the drink. "It's not warm, but I find a little bit of alcohol helps any situation go faster."

He stared down at the open bottle, and then cleared his throat, "Thank you."

"It's fine," Albert acknowledge. He shifted his weight between both feet, and then, as he continued to stare at the women, went on, "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm just-"

"Protective of your daughter," Lucius finished, knowing full well what he planned to say. "I understand. If it had been ten or twenty years ago, I would have been part of a group of masked marauders attacking everyone here… I can understand your concern."

"Hermione is very fond of your son," the man added. "I think, for their sake, it would be best if we got along."

"That's very big of you to say," Lucius managed, his eyes glued to his wife as she rummaged through a bin of woollen hats, perhaps looking for a gift for Dobby. "It makes sense, for the sake of the children."

"I'll drink to that," Albert mused, holding out his beer. Lucius finally tore his gaze from Narcissa to examine the bottle, and then clinked his own against it before taking a swig. He kept his features neutral, as though it was perfectly normal to be drinking a beer, but inside he was dying. Although it was a manly drink, Lucius would take a shot of whiskey over a beer any day. Something about the drink screamed of poverty and the lower-classes, and he had never properly become accustomed to the taste. However, for the sake of the truce they just toasted to, Lucius said nothing. He smiled slightly when the women returned to their sides, and continued to walk through the fair with Narcissa, who chatted happily with Joan about all things Muggle.

Finally, the women stopped at something that was called a 'dunk tank', and Albert explained people could throw a ball at a target within the tank, hit it, and send the unfortunate person sitting in the tank into the water. However, it was too cold for water, so they had filled the little pool with whipped cream, which was actually a little more entertaining. People could volunteer to sit in the dunk tank, though they were mostly teenagers and screeching children.

"Let's have a laugh then," Albert chuckled as he handed Joan his beer. "I'll go in… Narcissa, would you like to try your hand at it?"

His wife looked quite taken back, but she was careful to hide it, as usual, "Me? Why would you want to ruin your clothes?"

"Well," he whispered, stepping a little closer, "I figured we could go somewhere private afterward and you lot could clean me up with, you know, a spell or something."

"I'm not too sure if we can, I'm afraid," Lucius interjected. "We're sure to be flagged in the Ministry for practicing in front of Muggles."

"My, they keep a tight watch," Joan muttered, shaking her head. "If your government did that-"

"Ours has had too many problems between Muggles and wizards," Lucius explained carefully. "They are just being careful."

"Doesn't matter, just a thought," Albert said quickly. "I'll find somewhere to clean up if it makes you uncomfortable… But I always do it. Have done it since Hermione was just a wee girl. Oh, there she is… Hermione!"

He waved the pair over, and Hermione's brown eyes darted between her father and the dunk tank, and she sighed, "Dad, please, not again!"

"It's tradition, and you know it," Albert insisted, shooting his wife a wink. "I even offered Narcissa the first shot."

Draco stifled a laugh, which earned him a rather hard look from his mother, all of which made Lucius smirk. He stood silently as everyone sorted themselves out, and Albert got himself set up in the Muggle contraption. There was no way Narcissa would actually hit the target, so they had nothing to worry about. Draco was a seeker by profession in the sporting world, so there was also a pretty slim chance he would hit it if asked to step in. It was all a little ridiculous, but at least everyone seemed to be having fun as a unit, finally. Lucius even managed to produce a smile as Albert slipped into position within the tank, and Narcissa had a hard ball thrust into her hand by the man running the game. She looked down at it, as though it was the most foreign object she had ever seen, and then took up the proper position a good ten feet away from the target.

"Come on, Mother," Draco laughed, his arms wrapped around Hermione. "Throw it like you're throwing it at father's head."

Lucius leaned forward and flicked his son on the ear painfully, making him cry out in shock. Ha. Narcissa laughed softly, and then turned her attention back to the target. Eyes narrowed, she brought her arm up, in proper form, and then hurled the ball into the small lane. She was off by maybe a foot, and his wife pursed her lips in exasperation, no doubt a little embarrassed. Not to be put off, his determined wife tried again with a little coaching from Draco and Joan, only to miss once more. With a huff of indignant air, she looked back at him and he grinned a little too cheekily, earning him a glare.

"Don't look at me like that, Lucius Malfoy," she scolded lightly, and then held out her last ball for him to take. "You used to play Chaser… come here and show me how it's done."

He ignored the confused look on Joan's face at the mention of the Quidditch position, and then stuffed his beer into Draco's hand. He had wanted to do this all day.

"It's all in the wrist, darling," he cooed, a touch condescendingly, and then set the small ball in the palm of his hand. He hadn't thrown anything around for years, and while a small part of him was pretty confident he was still an excellent player, another part of him figured old age would have kicked out the skill. Left eye slightly closed, he drew back his hand, and hurled the ball forward, flicking his wrist just a hint after the release.

It was as if he never left the pitch. One moment Albert Granger was seated on a platform, the next he had plummeted into a sea of whipped cream. The day was finally looking up.

* * *

><p>"Well, this is total bullshit."<p>

Shane glared at the clock on the wall of the study. It was already 7:30, and if he had been at home for the weekend, he would have met Sawyer in a half an hour for dinner and maybe some alcohol consumption somewhere. It was going to be a fantastic night, and they had it planned for a few weeks at this point. However, his father had to go and completely ruin everything by sending all the children to stay with the Snapes for the weekend.

It wasn't like he didn't like spending time with Severus and Ginny… Usually, Ginny spoiled them relentlessly until they left, but he had really been looking forward to the weekend with his girlfriend. When he asked his father about maybe going out on Saturday night regardless of where he was, he was met with a stern look, and informed him that it would be up to Snape if he was allowed out, and with that, all hopes of seeing Sawyer went flying sadly down the drain. Eloise seemed just as pissed off that they were stuck here for the entire weekend, but she seemed to be handling it better than he was. All three of them were studying in one of the various rooms in the Snape Manor, and had been since dinner just over two hours ago.

It was awesome to not have Voldemort as the headmaster anymore, and have the school run by normal people, but the amount of homework he got in his seventh year was actually insanity. There were countless times over the past few months where he wondered why he hadn't just quit school and gone off to pursue his music career. Actually, he knew perfectly well why he didn't; his father would kill him. Draco was a fan of his music, for sure, but any serious talks of becoming a musician in the future usually fell to deaf, irritated ears, and apparently, it would have been better if he became a Quidditch player professionally… Anything but a music bum, unfortunately. Whatever. He would wear the old man down at some point, and then Draco would understand just how important music really is to him.

For now, he had bigger things to focus on; how to get out of here undetected.

"Look, just shut the fuck up, and stop moaning about it," Eloise muttered, not bothering to look up from her Charms essay. "I mean, I'd rather be at home too."

"I dunno," Kevin said thoughtfully. "I mean, we get spoiled here, don't we?"

"We could just walk across the properties and see grandmother if we want to be spoiled," Shane argued, throwing his quill down on the table in exasperation. "I mean… We're not little kids. Annie might need a babysitter, but that's what we have Dobby for! It's like he doesn't trust us to be on our own!"

"We're not talking about this again," Eloise snapped, finally looking up at him from across the table, her lengthy blonde hair loose around her shoulders. "Look, this sucks, Dad sucks, everything sucks, we know! But just get over it… You'll see her at school on Monday, and you can go out next weekend. Stop being such a brat."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck _you_!"

"Fuck me!" Kevin added, which earned him a look from both his siblings. Shane rolled his eyes, knowing that his brother only did it to break the tension for a potential fight, but he really wasn't in the mood for it at the moment. The youngest of the three cleared his throat awkwardly, and then returned to his quest to find the exact answers to his Herbology assignment within his textbook.

Well, they may be compliant with their father's wishes, but Shane wasn't about to stand for this kind of bullshit! He was nearly seventeen, for fuck's sake, and he ought to be able to do what he liked, when he liked, and with whoever he liked. He slammed his Defence text closed, stuffed his notes into his notebook, and then stood up, determined to get out of here. Eloise's eyebrows knitted, "What are you doing?"

"Keeping my date with Sawyer," he replied plainly. "I'm going to show up at her place and surprise her… I'll take the floo network from downstairs. Dunno where Ginny and Severus are, but I suspect the house is big enough that they won't miss me."

"It's not worth it," Eloise moaned. "You know you're going to get caught, Snape'll tell Dad, and you'll be in shit tomorrow."

"I have to try," Shane insisted, as though this was the biggest mission of his life. "Sawyer depends on me."

"No, she doesn't."

"Look, just piss off, keep your mouth quiet, and your nose in your essay," Shane snapped finally, ending the discussion when he stalked out of the room.

He quickly jogged up to the guest chamber that he was sharing with his brother, and snatched his cloak off the bed. After he stuffed his wallet in the pocket of his jeans, he hastily departed from the room, shoes in hand, cloak thrown over his shoulders sloppily, and tip-toed around the Manor in his socked feet. He had only been here a few times before, but he somehow managed to find his way through the maze of rooms and hallways to the main floor, and into the grand foyer with the master fireplace for travels. The kitchen was also downstairs, though he suspected Ginny and Snape were probably up in the main family living area like they usually were. As he jogged across the granite floor, he ended up sliding to a stop just to the side of the fireplace, and sent the jar of firepokers tumbling over with a noisy crash.

"Fuck!" he hissed, and then quickly scrambled to pick everything up. Everything had to look undisturbed, just in case someone walked in a moment after he left. A glance over his shoulder showed him no one had come running to investigate the noise, and he hastily pulled his sneakers on, and then grabbed a handful of Floo powder. Calming himself down a touch, he stepped into the fireplace and turned around, only to find Severus Snape standing a few feet away from him, hands behind his back and a somewhat blank expression on his face.

"Going somewhere?" the man droned, arching a dark eyebrow curiously. Shane debated just throwing the handful of powder down and vanishing in a ball of flames. Bit more dramatic than this, but then he would _definitely_ be skinned alive when he got back. Instead, he cleared his throat and slowly emerged from the massive fireplace.

"Uhm, just going back home," Shane lied. "I forgot my … charms notebook."

"Oh?"

"Yeah… Need it for my homework."

"Why don't I take you home then?" Snape inquired, taking a step toward him, "After all, you will learn how to apparate soon, so why don't I give you a little taste of it with a side-along?"

"Oh, no, that's okay," Shane scrambled, inching back to counter the way Snape stalked toward him, "I mean, I don't want to waste your time, and I'll be really quick-"

"No trouble at all," Snape told him, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin. "I'd do _anything_ for the son of my godson."

They stared at each other for a moment, Shane trying desperately to hold up his lie the best he could, but Snape's penetrating gaze was enough to make even the most seasoned liar crack.

"I… I'm…"

"Not going home, are you?" Snape finished for him, his eyes still daring Shane to push the man. "Where are you going?"

Shane sucked in his cheeks, debating whether to fabricate something else, but the way Snape looked at him made the decision pretty easy, "I… Okay. Sawyer and I had a date tonight. We've had it planned for a long time now, and we were both really looking forward to it, and then Dad goes off to Aunt Hermione's, and we went here… and he said I couldn't go, but I figured if I popped out for an hour or two, it wouldn't be too big a deal-"

"All right, all right," Snape cut him off, his hands raised a little. "How long ago did you make this date?"

"Two weeks ago-"

"And how did she react to you cancelling?"

Shane paused, and he suddenly realized that he might have a chance here if Snape was willing to work with him, "She was kind of upset… School's been tough, and we both wanted a night out, you know?"

Snape sighed, and pulled the sleeve of his typical black shirt back to examine his wristwatch, making Shane wait a few moments until he decided his verdict. The man's gaze suddenly softened, and he seemed to relax a little.

"I want you back here by midnight. I'll be waiting."

Shane's eyes widened, shocked that Snape had given in that easily, and he nodded, "Yeah, yeah, no problem… I'll be here ten minutes before, I promise!"

He leapt into the fireplace, not really believing his luck, and was out of the Snape Manor in an instant, engulfed in warm, green flames.

* * *

><p>Severus stared at the fireplace for a few moments, even after Shane had disappeared. Although he was sure Draco would be displeased that he had let the boy leave unsupervised – or maybe he wouldn't, seeing as Draco's stance as a father changed frequently with his eldest son – Severus could understand why the lad wanted out. After all, a plan had been made, and made well in advance, and then it was spoiled because his father and Hermione decided their recent outing trumped everything else. He even found it a little odd that the children were given over to him for the weekend, considering Shane was nearly of age <em>and<em> they had a house elf to mind them while Draco was away, but Ginny was always happy to have them around, so Severus endured. It wasn't like they were a bother either; Annie was in bed by seven, the rest were stuck with the mountains of homework they got from school, and since he was no longer their tutor, he felt no obligation to sit with them during that time period.

Kevin still came round every so often to ask for help with his assignments, and if he asked properly, Severus was more than willing to share his knowledge on the subject matter. He especially liked going through their Defence Against the Dark Arts projects with them, mostly because he had an aching desire to teach the class for years at this point (still), and he liked to see what the new professor thought would be adequate to get the lesson across. Naturally, every time he would scoff, and insist that it ought to be done differently, and he had a _much_ better method to approaching a certain subject, which earned him a hard look from Ginny and a sigh of boredom from whichever Malfoy child had to endure the lecture for the umpteenth time. He knew it was tedious, but he couldn't care less.

Point being, he didn't mind it when the Malfoy children came to stay. Despite their sometimes unsavoury habits – i.e. picking the dirt out from under their nails at the dinner table – they were well-behaved children who knew how to respect their elders, in a way, and they always had a knack for putting a smile on Ginny's face. So, if Shane wanted to go out to see his girlfriend, Severus saw no reason to deny him the right, so long he was given a curfew. Midnight seemed perfectly reasonable, and would give the lad a full solid four hours with his dearest before he needed to be back. And rest assured, Severus would be waiting outside the fireplace until Shane got his sorry arse back here. One second too late, and the privilege of leaving the house by himself while under Severus' charge would be gone.

He strolled back toward the kitchen, where he had left Ginny, and found that she had finished making up the snacks for the remainder of the Malfoy children. She had been cooking for most of the day, making delicious arrangements of cookies and brownies to tempt the kids into staying longer. She had, no doubt, picked up that little trick from her mother, who always had the more scrumptious food prepared on family days, which ended up keeping all the Weasley children in the house much longer than anyone expected to stay. Severus wasn't necessarily a huge fan of sweet baked goods, but he was always very polite, and ate more than his share to make the women happy. Percy Weasley, slowly working his way back into the family, had a similar tactic whenever he was around, as the man hated most things sweet.

"What was that all about?" Ginny inquired absently as she bent over the platter of cookies, arranging them neatly to fit some sort of design she had in mind.

"Shane was attempting to sneak out in order to see his girlfriend," Severus explained as he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. "Apparently he thought he was being stealthy."

"What, when he knocked the fire pokers over?" she laughed, glancing back over her shoulder and raising an eyebrow, "Fred and George made less of a racket back in their days of sneaking out…"

"They were much more skilled in the art of deception," Severus agreed, shaking his head. "He eventually told me where he was going…"

"So did you send him straight back upstairs?"

"No."

"No?"

She sounded sceptical, and Severus arched an eyebrow, "Am I one to get in the way of young love?"

"_Yes_!" she snorted. The redhead finally stood, no doubt content with her platter of sweets, and turned to face him, "I remember during the Yule Ball you made it your _mission_ to interrupt 'young love'!"

"Ahh, those were wonderful days," Severus sighed wistfully. "And that wasn't young love… That was usually two students sucking on each other's face. Not a pleasant sight."

"And here I thought you _were_ a romantic," she teased. "Puppy love is the key to everything, you know?"

"Haven't a clue what you're talking about," he fired back, making her roll her eyes and return to her cookies. "But I didn't see a problem in letting Shane visit his little friend-"

"Sawyer."

"Yes, her," he continued, "because he finally told me where he was going, and presented a very compelling argument. Hardly seems fair that he should be forced to change plans already made because his father decides to go spend the weekend with some Muggles."

"Albert and Joan are _just_ Muggles," Ginny insisted, attending to the kettle as it began to scream on the stove. "It's important to meet Hermione's parents so they know who their daughter is dating."

"Regardless," Severus pressed, "I hardly think the children even need to be here… They are more than capable of looking after themselves, and Shane shouldn't be forced to break his date."

She gave him an appraisingly look suddenly, but said nothing. Oh, Gods. He knew exactly what that look was. It was a look of pride, and normally he loved it when his wife cast him an adoring glance from across the room, but considering what they were just discussing, he knew exactly where her train of thought was headed.

"Stop it, Ginny."

"What?" she asked innocently. He watched as she flitted about the kitchen, grabbing two mugs and some sugar to make their evening tea.

"You know _what_," Severus insisted, his tone switching from the playful, relaxed one from before to something a little tenser, suddenly bracing himself for the fight. "You're thinking about me and children."

"No, I'm not-"

"You are."

"Well, why wouldn't I?" she snapped suddenly. There it was, "I mean, you know I think about it all the time, and when you prove to me what I already know, that you'd make an excellent father… What am I supposed to do?"

"As my wife," he growled, "and the person who supposedly loves me, you should respect my feelings on the issue… I've already made my decision. I'm too old to start having my own children with you, and we both know that. You're just too stubborn to see any other point of view except your own!"

Her eyes flashed furiously, a signal that the volcano was about to explode, and he figured she would have shouted at him had the Malfoy children not been staying the weekend. Instead, she turned around in the tips of her toes and began noisily making their tea.

"I can't believe your word is the final word," she snarled as she added far too much sugar into his cup. "You won't even let us have a proper conversation."

"We've had a million conversations about this!" Severus snapped, stepping into the room so that he wouldn't have to project his voice too far, "But ever since the war, you can't seem to get it out of your head… My argument is logical-"

"Not to a woman who wants nothing more in this world than to have a child," Ginny argued heatedly, "and for the person who supposedly loves me, I thought you'd do anything to see me happy."

"Don't you dare," he barked. Any other person would have jumped at the sharpness of his tone, but Ginny must have been used to it by now, "You know I would do anything for you!"

"Anything but this, right?"

He sucked in his cheeks, his face gaunt and pale, and he knew that if he stayed here any longer this could turn into one of their more serious fights. They bickered quite a bit, but in general it was fairly good-natured. However, when it came to this nonsense about Ginny having a baby, he had a tendency to really lose his temper. So, instead of losing it and having a shouting match with his wife in the kitchen, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

"And where are you going?" he heard her demand from the doorway. Snatching his cloak off the coatrack, he threw it around his shoulders, pulled his wand from the pocket, and turned back to her.

"Off to have something to drink a little stronger than your tea… We'll talk in the morning."

"Severus!"

In a moment, he was gone, and he knew there would be Hell to pay for his disappearing act when he returned home later that night.

* * *

><p>"Mate, we haven' done this in sucha long time," Ron slurred, clapping Harry on the shoulder as he swayed on his barstool. "I…I mean, when's the last time we got this piss drunk?"<p>

"I'm not… I'm not drunk," Harry managed, his vision blurring when he tried to focus on the half a glass of firewhiskey left sitting in front of him. "Comf'tably sober."

He then produced something that sounded like a hiccup and a burp mixed together, and Ron sniggered noisily into the foam of his beer. Merlin, how long had they been drinking? Harry remembered a lot of paperwork this afternoon, and watching the Ravenclaw Quidditch practice – he promised to give tips – and then supper, but everything felt more stressful than necessary. Being the headmaster of a school, especially one that meant so much to him, was quite a bit more difficult than he thought it would be. How Dumbledore did this for so many years was beyond him, but he wanted to put the exact same amount of care and effort into it that the old man did year after year. He had never asked for advice about how to deal with new professors, and considering most of the staff members were new or young themselves, they seemed at odds with how to welcome the new Divination professor. For now, he had been giving her the space she clearly wanted to set up her office and classroom, and that was that.

Ron had come round at the end of the day to bid him farewell, as he always did, before he went home to Luna. The woman was pregnant, again, and normally Ron was out of the castle by around six or seven so they could spend time together at home. However, he managed to hang around and run some errands for Harry, who was swamped with letters from parents, inquiries from the Ministry over certain educational decrees, and issues with students that needed to be immediately addressed. It was amazing having his best mate in the castle, but he did feel somewhat guilty whenever he pawned off some of the less interesting work onto the man. When Ron finished his duties, he must have noticed the big bags under Harry's eyes, and insisted that he stop everything and come down to the village for a drink. Harry argued that they could just drink here, but Ron fired back that it would be necessary to actually leave the castle if he wanted to relax.

And so they did. The pair marched down to Hogsmeade, warmly wrapped in a few layers of clothing as the approaching winter winds followed them, and took up a permanent residence at the Three Broomsticks bar. It all started very casually, with a few drinks, and then a challenge from Ron to see who could finish their beer the fastest. Harry won, and naturally Ron demanded a rematch. This happened a few more times within the span of an hour, and by the end, they had moved onto to something a little harder to drink; firewhiskey. All work talk was banned from the conversation, and it might have been because he was drunk off his arse, or because he was finally out of the castle and no longer thinking about work, but Harry hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. Ron had this way of putting his mind at ease, and there was always a lot of laughter shared between the men, who had been friends since childhood, whenever they spent time alone together.

"One more round of whiskey!" Ron ordered, slamming down the last bit of his pocket change on the bar counter and shoving it toward the bartender. Harry groaned, and then shook his head.

"No more, Ron, no more," he managed. "I'm going to be completely knackered tomorrow m-morning …"

"We're tough sods," Ron insisted as he bobbed side to side on his seat, and then down the remainder of his beer. "We don't… We don't… alcohol."

"What?" Harry laughed, grasping at the small glass filled with whiskey that had magically appeared in front of him. "Ok-kay, one more, and then… then water."

"One more, and I suggest you hit the road, Headmaster," the bartender muttered, his eyes meeting Harry's bright green ones suddenly. "You don't want to be seen this pissed by anyone important… and I won't have Weasley pass out in my bar."

"Get s-stuffed, Tom," Ron grunted, and then downed the rest of his whiskey. The bartender's name definitely wasn't Tom, but for the life of him, Harry couldn't recall it either. However, despite the drunken haze his head was in, the man's logical was somehow penetrating through the fog. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. There were people out there, despite his war hero status, who thought he was far too young to be a headmaster, and figured he ought to start teaching first and work his way up. Hermione always put it into perspective; no one knew Hogwarts or loved it more than Harry James Potter, and therefore he was truly the right candidate for the job.

"We should go though," Harry finally decided, grasping his last drink, since Ron had already paid for it, and downed it as quickly as possible. He then slid unceremoniously off the barstool, which seemed a lot higher now than it had been, and took a little while to find his footing. Everything was spinning a little, and when he closed his eyes, his world was definitely still unsteady. Time for bed. He brought his wristwatch about an inch away from his face to examine it, and he realized it was nearly three in the morning. Bloody Hell… _definitely _bed time!

"Come on, R-Ron," he stammered, suddenly realizing he had no idea where he put his cloak. "You can stay at the castle tonight… Don' want you apparating home and losing an arm."

"I'll be fine," Ron insisted, running a hand through his shaggy hair before falling off his barstool, similar to Harry's attempt at standing up, and finally found his footing when he grabbed hold of the bar for support. "But I'm sure Luna'll kill me if I show home piss drunk…"

"What?" Harry asked absently. Ron tended to get more and more incoherent the drunker he got, but usually, Harry was good at deciphering it. Suddenly, the bartender appeared beside him and stuffed his cloak into his hand, and did the same for Ron, and then ushered the pair toward the door.

"S-Steady on, Tom!" Ron demanded as he stumbled forward, "I walk fine when drinking beer, can't you talk?"

"I _see_ just fine, Weasley," the man informed him, patting him on the shoulder. "Now you walk just fine back to Hogwarts, and don't take a wrong turn toward the forest along the way."

He then shoved the pair out the front door, and slammed it behind them. Harry frowned, "Did we just get kicked out of a bar?"

"Sod 'im!" Ron decided, and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder, "We don't need his bar!"

"No, we need to sleep off the alcohols," Harry informed him, and the pair began their trek back to the castle. Harry made a very conscious effort to keep them on the path, and he noticed that it definitely wasn't as cold out anymore. Maybe he was just too drunk to feel it.

"So what's your read on the new professor?" Ron inquired after a couple minutes of silence, during which the two men struggled valiantly to walk a straight line together. Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Honestly, I dunno… Don't think I have one yet."

"If she's Fleur's cousin like you said, that means we're related," Ron deduced, probably the most intelligent deduction all night, and Harry nodded in agreement. "Guess that means I can't flirt then, eh?"

"You'd be rubbish at it anyway."

"Hey!"

Harry chuckled, and they carried on along the path, only to run into a familiar face in the darkness. Harry squinted as the figure strode up to them, his head down, most likely unaware that anyone would be up and about at this time of night, and nearly marched right into them. The man looked up at the very last moment and stopped, and Harry balked when he realized it was Snape.

"Well, hello, brother!" Ron greeted drunkenly, untangling himself from Harry support and stumbling forward to awkwardly shake his hand, "Long time no see!"

Their former professor and longstanding enemy simply stared at them, a little disgusted, and then spat, "You two stink of whiskey."

Ron looked momentarily offended, and then sniffed in Snape's general direction, "You don' smell much like sober either!"

Snape? Drunk? Harry snorted at the thought, and the older man shoved through them without another word, and continued his march toward the village. With a roll of his eyes, Ron wrapped his arm back around Harry's neck, and the pair carried on, drunkenly speculating why he was out at nearly three in the morning, drunk, and without Ginny. Trouble in paradise? Harry could only hope so. He may have come to terms with the fact that Ginny had married another man, but that didn't mean, in a drunken state, he could force himself to be happy about it.

Somehow, the pair managed to get back to the castle without diverging into the woods. However, they were less than subtle as they stumbled through the halls, getting lost twice on their way to drop Harry off in his chambers. The pair burst out laughing as a few of the portraits mimicked them irritably, and shhhh-ed them back when they were told to be quiet.

"And where have you two been?"

The pair paused and awkwardly turned their weird twosome around, only to find Ophelie glaring at them, her hands on her hips. Harry frowned, and then cleared his throat, "Professor Harries, why are you up so late this morning?"

"None of your concern," she snapped back. "Do you know what a terrible example the two of you are setting for your students? Honestly, showing up drunk at this hour!"

"N-No student ought to be up at this hour, Bossy Britches," Ron slurred back. "Ha! Showed her, Harry… C'mon!"

Harry did feel a bit embarrassed as Ron dragged him away, knowing that this wasn't the impression he wanted to make on a new member of the staff. He could feel her judgmental eyes resting on his back the entire time, and he knew he would have a lot of explaining to do come morning.


	6. A Weekend at the Grangers 5

**A Weekend at the Grangers**

**Chapter 5: Sunday**

* * *

><p>Despite a rocky start, Draco decided that the weekend had been a success. After all, they had a little bit of an altercation the first night, but after that everyone had been on their best behaviour. The previous day at the fair was probably the best thing for all of them. It gave them all enough time to be apart if they needed, while also enjoying the atmosphere and games. Much to his surprise, his parents actually had a great time. By the end of the evening, Albert and Lucius were actually chatting away with a group of other Muggle men, while the mothers sorted out dinner options from the buffet tents. In fact, no one really seemed to care what he and Hermione were up to once they had introduced them around to their friends. Everyone gushed over what a handsome couple they made, but soon turned inward into gossip about the village. His parents were a bit of a hit, since they were outsiders, and ran in completely different circles, but Draco didn't really seem to count for anything. All of that was, of course, just fine by him. He and Hermione had a grand time regardless. They bought ridiculously sweet treats, helped monitor some obnoxious jumping castle while the attendant ran to the loo – Hermione suggested getting one for Annie's next birthday, an idea he rejected <em>very<em> quickly – and strolled around arm in arm for hours.

It was that night that made Draco completely sure he wanted her around for the rest of his life. In fact, it took a great deal of effort not to get down on one knee in front of the damn bouncing castle and ask for her hand right then and there. It would make a fun little story to tell the children, certainly, but Draco wanted to do this right. His father worked out a marriage with his mother's family before courting her, and Draco thought it was the right thing to do to carry on the family tradition. After all, he wanted to be respectful toward the people that would one day be his in-laws. Now, this wasn't to say he wanted to marry Hermione next weekend, or anything. They hadn't even had their one year anniversary yet, but Draco just wanted to lock her down. They could really get married whenever she wanted to… A year from now, two, three, a month… Hell, Draco wasn't really picky. The only thing that would change is the appearance of a ring on her finger, and her last name. Oh, and she might finally decide to live with him. You know, whatever floats her boat.

The Malfoy family was heading out sometime around noon on the Sunday. No one wanted to overstay their welcome, despite having a fairly decent time out the night before, and Draco knew he didn't have much time. As the women began setting the table for lunch, Draco managed to find Albert and his father in the living room, plunked down in front of the Muggle television in the corner.

"And it's great for keeping in touch with world events," he heard Albert explaining. "I mean, we get loads of news stations… You don't feel so out of touch."

"I see…" his father muttered, holding up a stick with a bunch of buttons on it. A remote? Yes, that's what the children called it. He pointed it at the screen, pressed one of the arrows, and suddenly the TV increased in volume to a point where it was almost unbearable.

"Oh, careful," Albert laughed, reaching over and pressing the opposite button. "The volume goes up pretty quick on it… You really have to be gentle."

"Fascinating," his father droned, bringing the remote closer to examine. Ah, he was trying so hard to humour the man. Draco cleared his throat, causing both men to look back. "What do you want, Draco?"

He shot his father a pointed look, and then turned to Albert, his expression softening a bit, "Would you mind if we have a quick chat… Just the two of us?"

The man seemed momentarily surprised, and then smiled a little, "Sure! Why don't we… erhm…"

"Maybe the porch?" Draco suggested, pointing toward the slightly frosted exterior, "It'll be quick."

"Why not?"

They opted not to put on a jacket, being the manly men they were, but once Draco was outside, he almost wished he had thrown on a sweater, or something. His long-sleeved shirt really wasn't thick enough for the chilly English day.

"Is everything all right?" Albert asked once he shut the door, coming in very close to Draco as he rubbed his arms, "Bloody nippy this morning…"

"Yes… Sorry, I just… I didn't want anyone to overhear," Draco remarked sheepishly, his stomach suddenly a pit of nerves he hadn't noticed before. "If we were… If you were magical I'd just cast a spell to block out the noises, but… this seemed like the better alternative."

"Right then… Out with it, Mr. Malfoy."

He swallowed thickly, and pondered momentarily if Albert Granger knew what he was going to ask him. Draco cleared his throat, smoothed his hair down, and then exhaled, "Okay… I don't… There really isn't any other way for me to say this, so I'll just… I'd like to marry your daughter."

The man nodded, his hands folded together and his pointer fingers resting against his lips. When he said nothing, Draco took it as a sign to continue, "She's… She's the one for me, and I know I've been married before, and I've got children, but I didn't really see Hermione for the amazing woman she is until a year or so ago, and… I can't see myself without her anymore. She's that last piece to my puzzle…"

He cringed inwardly at the cliché, "And I can't see myself ever having such strong feelings for any woman ever again. However, it would be improper of me to just ask her without consulting you first. Therefore, I would like to ask you for your blessing to marry your daughter. I'd like you to give me permission to spend the rest of my life being the man she deserves…"

The man gave him a hard look, and he suddenly realized that, despite the cold, his hands were sweaty. Everything was sweaty. He didn't feel the least bit comfortable, and the way Hermione's father continued to give him that steely look really wasn't helping matters. Finally, after what seemed like a full century had passed, the man spoke.

"Draco," he began, and Draco immediately sensed that this wasn't going to be the answer he was hoping for, "I'm sorry, but I can't give you my blessing right now."

He took a deep breath, slightly prepared for this outcome all the same, "Look, I know I'm probably not what you expected in a potential son-in-law, but I can look after her. I'm financially secure, with a good job, and support whatever she chooses to do with her life-"

"It's not that I don't think you would be suitable right now," Albert insisted, cutting him off, "but I'm sorry… I cannot rid my mind of memories from Hermione's childhood. You tormented her, Draco. She shed tears over the horrible bullying you and your friends made her endure, and I can't simply forget it. Yes, you've both changed. Your family seems great, and from everything Hermione has told me now, you treat her splendidly. But that's only been for a few months."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, a little flustered that Albert would drudge up something that was that long ago against him, but he pressed on, his voice firm and calm, "I want you to give it time. I want you two to try living together… This may be your second marriage, but I want Hermione's first to be her only, and you both need to be one hundred percent sure before I can give my blessing. Can you say you're one hundred percent?"

"I am."

"Is she?"

Draco fumbled a little in his response, but he recovered quickly, "I don't think I should speak for her…"

"That's why I'm not giving my blessing today."

Draco knew he looked crestfallen. He wasn't bothered that his emotions were plain as day… Draco was genuinely disappointed. He had the ring and everything, and he was so bent on asking Hermione sometime soon, but now that her father hadn't given him his blessing, something about his proposal felt sour.

"Don't get me wrong," Albert chuckled, giving Draco a firm clap on the shoulder. "I think you treat my little girl brilliantly now… I've never seen her as happy as she was last night strolling around with you. I just want to be sure… She's the only daughter I've got. So for me, just give it some time. Come round for supper more… Maybe bring the little ones next time."

"Sure," Draco muttered. "I bet Hermione would like that…"

"Come on then," the older man laughed, leading him back toward the door. "I'm freezing, and Joan'll kill us if we don't at least set the table for lunch."

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**Hello all! This ending was essentially what I wanted to come out of this story… The realization for Draco that he doesn't know 100% where Hermione's at with their relationship, and to introduce the Grangers. The other bits were sort of fillers and fun stuff I thought people would enjoy, and they will be concluded in follow-up one-shot additions. **

**My next one-shot for the series is a toss-up in my head, but I'm fairly certain it will be a Ginny/Snape story centered on their marital issues, particularly the clearly touchy subject of babies. So stay tuned! **


	7. My Baby 1

**My Baby**

**Chapter 1: Realization**

_Ginny discovers she's pregnant, and it completely thrown about how to feel. Thrilled, or horrified for her husband's reaction? She soon learns what to do, with a little help from Mum. - Dedicated to pittstick1_

* * *

><p>Ginny stared at the pregnancy stick in her hand, shaking with uncontrollable emotion. At this very moment, she was finally pregnant. Although she hadn't actively been trying, or anything, she had been a little slack on her birth control over the past few months. When she first started easing off, she genuinely wanted to get pregnant, and explain to Severus that there was nothing he could do about it once the baby was there. However, with the amount of fighting they had been doing over the issue, Ginny decided that becoming pregnant might not be the best option for their marriage at the moment. In fact, the best thing to do, despite how much it hurt her, would be to drop it and bring it up in a few months, once the dust had settled and he wasn't so sensitive to the issue. Unfortunately, she forgot she had been so irregular with her birth control, and after a drunken romp with her husband after a gathering with her family, she started to notice some symptoms.<p>

It wasn't anything that couldn't be chalked up to something else. The morning sickness could be food poisoning. Her breast growth could be linked with her oncoming period. The moodiness could be, well, Ginny being Ginny over certain issues. However, as all the symptoms persisted and intensified, she knew she couldn't ignore it for much longer. Severus was oblivious to any kind of change in her demeanour, and although he was a little tense after some fights, he seemed to think everything was normal. Ginny knew better. She had watched other wives fall pregnant over the years, and had heard the stories from her mother, and she was observant enough to know something might be wrong. So, while Severus was out for the day with Lucius, Draco and his sons, she rushed out to the nearest drug store and purchased a pregnancy test. It was a Muggle kit, but she didn't want to leave magical traces around the house for him to find. Even if it was a negative, she didn't want Severus to think she was still fixated on getting pregnant. Which she was, but on the inside.

So, after locking herself in the guest bathroom on the first floor, she peed on that silly little stick, the whole thing seeming a bit ridiculous, and waited the full five minutes like the package instructed. When she retrieved it, she saw it was positive. From there, she repeated the test on four different sticks, anxious that it might have been a false positive. My, that would certainly set off some drama! However, each time she waited, and each time the stick said she was pregnant.

She slid weakly down the wall and sat on the cold, tile floor for a long time, her stomach a mess. Half of her wanted to jump up and down, run around the manor screaming to the high heavens that it had finally happened. Half of her was ecstatic! However, the other half was completely horrified. Severus would be furious that she had gotten pregnant because she was irresponsible with her birth control, and it could break their marriage for a little while. He wasn't a man who let the differences between them damage their relationship, but this seemed like something so serious to him that she was actually terrified of his reaction. She could always terminate the pregnancy, mind you. After all, she wasn't that far along, and it could be done quickly and quietly. But how could she get rid of something that could change her life?

From a very young age, Ginny always knew she wanted to be a mother. Although her own mother seemed haggard during the majority of her childhood, she seemed fulfilled. After all, she raised an entire army of children who went on to have successful careers, and was still in excellent health. If there was anyone in this world that Ginny looked up to, it was her mother. So, it made sense that a certain Molly Weasley would know exactly what to do in a situation like this!

A little numbly, Ginny rose to her feet and left the bathroom. She strolled quickly into the front hall and grabbed her winter cloak, and then asked for the house elf to fetch her wand. The creature had it to her in a heartbeat, and moments later she vanished, turning up on the front step of her childhood home. She glanced down at her feet, and realized she had apparated without changing her shoes. Her house slippers were now soaked from the snow on the front step, and she hastily pushed open the door and slid inside. The Burrow seldom changed. Even though there weren't hundreds of people living in it anymore, her parents hadn't reduced the number of floors, nor had they shrunken any of the extended rooms down. For now, they remained filled with her and her siblings' childhood paraphernalia, ready to be slept in and used at any given moment.

After setting her slippers in front of the fire, which was in full throttle at this point in the late afternoon, Ginny hung her cloak up near the front door, and stepped into the kitchen. Oddly quiet in the house, but she simply set to busying herself in the kitchen. She put on a kettle, and began rummaging for some homemade cookies in the cupboards.

"Arthur?" she heard her mother call, her footsteps on the rickety staircase, "Are you home already? They really mustn't have needed you for the day…"

She trailed off when Ginny poked her head around the banister and grinned, spotting her mother on the first floor landing. The woman beamed back and hurried down the rest of them, "Oh, Ginny dear! I thought your father came home too soon… I was in the middle of cleaning."

Ginny said nothing as her mother approached, only held open her arms and happily accepted the soft, yet solid, embrace of her mother. She seemed the same as always, and was finally putting all the weight back on she had lost during the war. All that stress was just awful on the poor woman, and she looked like a shell of her former self when it finally came to an end. With her father now officially back at home, she knew that Molly could breathe easy, and finally settle back in to her old routine as a homemaker.

"This is unexpected," Molly mused lightly in her ears. "Is everything all right?"

She bit her lip to keep it from wobbling, but she couldn't hold it in anymore. Ginny clutched her mother tightly and sobbed into her hair, completely overwhelmed with emotion. Her mother rubbed her back gently, hushing her the best she could, but let the younger woman hug her for as long as she saw necessary.

"What's he done now?" her mother inquired when she finally pulled away. Ginny ran a finger under her eyes, collecting the tears, and then rubbed them on her pants. She frowned, taking a moment to realize what her mother was asking about, and then shook her head.

"No… No, Severus hasn't done anything," Ginny explained, her voice uneven with all the crying. "I just… Mum, I'm pregnant."

"Oh!" Molly gasped, her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide, "Oh, Ginny, that's wonderful!"

"It is," she agreed gloomily, "but it isn't… Severus… He doesn't want any children."

"Don't be silly," her mother chuckled, taking her gently by the arm and sitting her down at the table before fixing them up two cups of tea. "I see how he is when he visits with Ron's children… He's lovely with the Malfoys, from what you've told me. He may not think he wants any, but I'm sure he wouldn't object to them."

"We've been fighting for months about it," Ginny argued. "Well, really it's been an issue for years."

Her eyes watered again, and she felt her lips quiver, but she took a deep breath to calm down. Ginny wasn't someone to cry at the slightest thing, but all the pent-up emotion and underlying drama that came with this problem was starting to become too much. She thanked her mother quietly when Molly set a steaming cup of tea in front of her, and she fiddled with the handle for a few minutes.

"Does he know?" Molly finally asked, and Ginny shook her head.

"I just found out today. Literally ten minutes ago. I… I couldn't stay at home. I don't know what to do," she explained weakly. "Severus will be furious with me, and he'll think I did it on purpose. I haven't been the best at keeping up with my birth control, but I didn't mean for it to happen."

"I find that's the case most of the time," her mother laughed, dropping two cubes of sugar into each of their mugs. "After all, Fred and George were _not_ planned."

"No?"

"Your father and I had our hands full with three boys already," Molly insisted, her eyes twinkling at the memory, "but when they came along, we knew they did for a reason. I wouldn't have it any other way."

She stared at the table as her mother continued to make her tea, and once she was finished, she nudged the cup toward Ginny. Wrapping her slightly sweaty hands around it, she brought the drink up and took a delicate sip. It was still a little too hot, but it was just perfect.

"He'll kill me, Mum."

"Don't say that," her mother scolded lightly. "While he may not be the most… pleasant man I've ever met, you know that he loves you."

She nodded, "That… he does."

"Just because you're fighting over the issue doesn't mean you can't discuss it now," Molly carried on. "After all, it's much more real now."

"What if he leaves me over this?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ginny," her mother snorted. "He's hardly that type of man. He might go sulk for a little, but from what we've seen in the past, he always comes home."

That was certainly correct. Whenever the fights turned into screaming matches, as they had become on a few occasions, Severus left. Ginny usually didn't know where he would go, but he always came back at some point the next day, never a day longer, and they could have something of a civil conversation. Sometimes the problem would be fixed, and other times they decided to just sweep it under the rug. After all their years together, she had no reason to think he would ever abandon her. Nothing in his history gave her any reason to think otherwise.

"I don't know what to do, Mum."

She sounded hopeless. Defeated and broken by all these fights, Ginny no longer knew how to feel about having a baby.

"Before you answer my question, I want you not to think about anything," Molly said after a moment or two of silence. "Now, what do you want to do?"

"I want to have a baby," Ginny replied without hesitation, "but-"

"That's that," Molly said quickly, cutting her off as her hand touched her wrist. "You want to be a mother, something I understand so very well. Severus will need to adjust his expectations for this marriage, because your family will expand no matter what."

"But-"

"Ginny," her mother continued, forcing her to make eye contact. "We both know that once your mind is made up, there's no going back. Now, I'm not telling you to completely disregard the feelings of your husband… In fact, I think the two of you need to have a very long discussion about this and find ways to make it work."

"What if he-"

"You won't know until you actually talk, now will you?" Molly laughed gently, taking a sip of her tea, "Oh, that's just right."

"Mum, I don't-"

"Stress isn't good for you now," Molly decided conclusively. "I know you're worried, but let's do something else for the day. Finish your tea, and you can help me with the cleaning. Now that I can't get you children to do the chores, it takes ages to get this house clean!"

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**I love you Molly Weasley. Best fictional mum ever. This will be a two-parter, I think. The next one will get chucked up soon. **


	8. My Baby 2

**My Baby**

**Chapter 2: Acceptance**

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><p>"Ginny?"<p>

Severus shut the main entrance to his manor quietly, kicked off his shoes, and then set his bags on the floor. He had spent the lovely Sunday afternoon with Lucius and his progeny, right down the line to Kevin, and he really just needed some quiet time. Apparently, for some stupid reason, Hermione suggested a boys day to Draco, and naturally he took her up on the offer without a fuss and whisked everyone off for a day at the Quidditch Pitch just outside of London, a privately funded one by the Ministry that rented the space to professional teams, and then lunch. It wasn't a bad idea in theory, but Draco's sons were quite competitive over the sport, and only ended up goading Lucius and Draco into it. The only one who really didn't give a toss about how a player threw the Quaffle was Severus, but he got sucked into the ridiculousness all the same. His opinions were shot down pretty quickly, and he spent a lot of the time wishing his wife was there, as she knew a great deal more about the game than he ever would.

With Ginny on his mind once the Malfoy clan departed, Severus strolled the shops in downtown London, eyeing glamorous dresses in the store windows until he found one he liked. It was a dark blue number, high in the front, low in the back, with short sleeves and a hint of a train. He wasn't one for fashion, but he knew Ginny loved getting expensive new clothes. Perhaps it came from years of hand-me-downs from older cousins and her mother, but when Ginny realized he had the funds to buy her anything she wanted, she certainly took advantage of it. So, he popped into the shop quickly, ordered the dress in her size, and drummed his fingers lazily on the counter until the saleswoman returned with a petite dress in hand, suitable for his petite wife. He paid in cash, as he always made sure to carry Muggle money on him, and left without much else to say.

They had been bickering a lot lately. Well, more than bickering. One might go so far as to say that he and his wife were in a constant state of fighting, minus a few breaks every odd day or so, and it was incredibly exhausting. He knew Ginny was headstrong, and always had been, but this baby issue was something she definitely didn't want to drop. Although he wanted to do whatever he could to make her happy, he didn't want to have children, and he was equally firm on the issue. Firstly, he felt much too old to start having children now. Knowing Ginny, one wouldn't be enough, and she'd soon want more. Secondly, he barely had a father figure in his life growing up – Tobias Snape was really anything but a father – and he wasn't even sure if he could do it. Yes, he had taught students for year, but that was completely different. There were many things that a father must do that a teacher did not, and Severus liked it that way. Now, he didn't really have a problem with children in general. He liked watching Draco's, and he had dozens of nieces and nephews in Ginny's immediate family alone – bloody lot of them bred like rabbits – that he could never go without seeing a toothy grin or snotty nose, but it didn't seem like it was for him. Unfortunately, that was where they clashed; Ginny thought he'd be brilliant, Severus thought he'd be a miserable failure, and neither was willing to see the fine line between.

So, during this period of not fighting, Severus wanted to keep the mood going by buying her something pretty. Maybe she would put it on, realize she would become awfully fat if she was pregnant, and that might persuade her to postpone the pregnancy for a little while. He was deluded if he actually believed Ginny was that vain, but it was worth a shot. However, when he arrived home, no one answered his call. Frowning, he noticed that his wife's shoes were still here, but her cloak was gone. After removing his, he sauntered down the first floor corridor, calling for her a few times and poking his head into rooms she frequented. When that proved fruitless, he decided to check upstairs next. However, he paused in front of the first floor guest bathroom. The lights were on, which was odd, considering they never really had guests, so neither tended to use it.

"Ginny?" Severus repeated, poking his head inside cautiously, only to find the floor a complete disaster. He stepped inside and noticed several opened boxes, sheets of instructions, and funny little sticks with bars on it. He picked up one of the boxes to examine, and his eyes widened when he read they were all Muggle pregnancy tests. Without thinking, he picked up the nearest stick and imagined the marking on it. He then compared it to the markings on the box, and realized that this ridiculous contraption indicated that his wife was pregnant.

Severus then read what was required of women to do to that little stick to test for pregnancy, and he hastily dropped it, wiping his hands on his pants, a little disgusted. However, he checked all of the sticks, turning them over with his foot to see if they all yielded the same result, which they did. Oh, for Merlin's sake. She was probably horrified by the results. Horrified, happy, confused… All of those emotions in one, and when Ginny felt overwhelmed, she was a time bomb just waiting to explode. He hurried out of the bathroom, and summoned his house elf. However, the creature only told him that Ginny put on her cloak and left, but it was complete unsure of her location. Frowning, he paused for a moment after he put his shoes back on, wondering where she would run to first. Not the Malfoys… They weren't _that_ close. Certainly not any of her brothers, though they were a possibility. After some mulling over of all the people that Ginny considered good friends, he decided that Hermione Granger was probably his best option right now. They had been close for years now, and it would make sense…

Slipping into his cloak, he grabbed his wand and apparated to Hogwarts, landing just outside the main gates. It took him a second to remember that Potter had lifted the ban on apparation during the school year, and quickly made for a more suitable landing place indoors. For the most part, the castle was empty on weekends. Potter had opened up the dormitories for people who would rather be at school than at home, a feeling Severus knew well, but for the most part the majority opted to go home for the weekends. The professors, however, were more than welcome to remain on campus, and from what Severus had heard from Draco, Hermione practically lived in the library as her new position as librarian, and had a small room somewhere in here all to herself.

He stalked through the corridors quickly, trying to picture where one might house a librarian now that Hogwarts had changed. He knew everything about the castle, from top to bottom, but he wasn't exactly sure what Potter had done to it since he took over as headmaster.

"You all right there, Snape?"

The voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to face a Mr. Harry Potter, clad in a pair of loafing pants and a sweater. He looked _nothing_ like what a headmaster should be, and it was actually a little upsetting. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to focus on Potter's idiocy; he needed to find Ginny.

"How on Earth did you find me?" Severus inquired as the boy strolled toward him. Harry held up a pile of parchment, something he recognized from years gone by, and tapped it.

"Marauders Map," Potter laughed. "It continues to come in handy. Now, can I help you with something?"

"I'm looking for Ms. Granger," he explained tightly, not particularly pleased to get any kind of help from Harry. "Would you be able to point me in her direction?"

"Last I saw she was in the library, sorting out book returns-"

"Thank you."

He nodded curtly, and continued his march down the hall without giving his former nemesis a second glance. His feet automatically guided him to the library, and it didn't take long to find Hermione Granger standing in front of a pile of books at the main desk.

"Oh, Severus," she greeted as he approached. "This is a surprise-"

"I don't mean to be curt," he said quickly, cutting her sentence short, "but I was wondering if Ginny has come by here?"

"Ginny?" Hermione repeated, pushing her curly hair away from her face, "No, no, she hasn't been to see me… It's just been me and the books all day."

Damn it. Severus nodded and turned on his heel, ready to leave and continue the hunt at Fred Weasley's house, but Hermione cleared her throat, "Have you lost her?"

"She…" he paused, and then faced her again, "She's having a problem, I think. It's quite a big one, and I'd rather her tell you… but… I just don't know where she's gone, and I want to talk to her before she does something stupid."

He couldn't quite picture what that might be at this point. All he wanted to do was see her and talk to her, and then understand how she felt about the whole situation. For now, he was decidedly neutral on it. Severus was definitely more anxious about Ginny's feelings than the thought of potentially having a child. If he stopped to think about it, he might become too overwhelmed. Therefore, it was essential to keep his brain moving forward, not thinking too much, and focus on the mission at hand.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, apparently lost in thought, and then set down the textbook she had been thumbing through, "You know… If it's something she hasn't talked to you or me about, there's only one other place she would go."

"Where?"

"To see her mum, of course," the woman laughed, and he suddenly had a crystalizing moment. _Of course_ she would go see Molly Weasley! The woman certainly had the most experience pushing out babies… and, well, she was Ginny's mother. The two were incredibly close after the war, and it suddenly only made logical sense that she would go to see the woman after finding out news like this.

"Of course… Of course, that makes perfect sense," Severus managed to get out. "Thank you, Hermione."

"No problem."

He pulled out his wand and vanished on the spot, reappearing again on the stoop of the Burrow. Although the Malfoys had bought Arthur and Molly a new home close to the Wiltshire Manor, the pair only lived in it until their old family home was rebuilt. After, they decided to sell the house and return the money to Lucius and Narcissa, but his old friends refused to take it. Instead, they told the Weasleys to keep it, and use it to help fund the hundreds of grandchildren they were bound to have in the future. It made sense.

Severus stood in front of the door for some time, debating whether to knock, or just go right in. After the war, the Weasleys had accepted him as a part of the family, most likely due to the way his wife chatted him up whenever he wasn't around. He definitely made an effort to try to fit in with them, but after their history, and their remarkably different views on family life, it was a little trying at times. Her brothers were unsure how to treat him, as he certainly wasn't the type of brother-in-law to be nudged around and joked with, and then her father seemed occasionally awkward, seeing how close they were in age. It was to be expected, but never made anything less uncomfortable at family gatherings. When they were all drunk, Severus included, things seemed to flow a little better.

Finally, he figured it would be best to knock. If Hermione was wrong, and Ginny wasn't here, he didn't want to barrel into the family home unannounced like some wild man. He brought his fist up to knock, only to flinch back when the door was flung open, Molly Weasley standing on the other side, one hand grasping the door, the other on her hip.

"Well, get in," she snapped, her tone forcing Severus to scuttle inside with less dignity than he originally intended.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything-"

"Sit," she ordered brusquely as one finger pointed at the squishy loveseat in the living room. He opened his mouth to respond, but the look on her face hardened, and he quickly settled down on to the couch. "Now, my daughter was very upset when she came here today. Can you imagine why?"

Severus licked his lips, and then sighed, "I assume it's because she's pregnant. I … I found the tests at home."

"Well, at least I don't have to break that to you," she said, her tone softening only a touch. "My Ginny is mortified about your reaction. She desperately wants to be happy, but _you_ have spoiled the moment."

"I don't want her to be upset," Severus argued, a little frustrated that he was having this talk with her mother, and not his wife. "I just want to talk to her!"

"I spent all afternoon calming her and distracting her," Molly stated, pointing at him again in the same way she disciplined her sons. "She's napping at the moment… If you go upstairs and upset her, I'll have your head, Severus Snape!"

"Understood," he said quickly, knowing full well that the woman meant it. She gave him a penetrating look, and then stepped to the side, signifying he could go find his wife. Darting around her, he raced up the rickety stairwell, nearly tripping over a barn cat in the process, and eventually found himself standing in the doorframe of Ginny's childhood bedroom. Not much had changed, apparently, aside from expanding the size of the bed a little to incorporate Severus whenever he stayed over. Otherwise, Quidditch posters hung from the walls, and collages of her old friends were back in place after the Burrow was rebuilt.

She was snuggled underneath her covers, mouth slightly open as she snoozed away the evening. If she was pregnant, was she feeling the signs already? Severus watched her sleep for some time, leaning against the doorframe for support. He wanted to shake her awake so they could talk about this immediately, but he didn't have the heart to do it. For all he knew, the moment she woke up could be the start of another argument, and he didn't want to do it to her. Instead, he entered the room quietly and sat at end of her bed, his head in his hands, and waited until she stirred. It only took about fifteen minutes or so, considering how light of a sleeper Ginny could be.

He heard her groan softly, inhale, and then roll onto her side, "Severus?"

Smiling softly, he leaned forward and smoothed her hair down, which was in an adorable mess around her head, "How are you feeling?"

She eased herself up, looking at him tentatively with a frown on her face, "I… I'm all right. Have you spoken with my mother?"

"Ginny, I found those Muggle pregnancy tests," he informed her plainly. "I don't know why you decided to use a Muggle contraption to test for this…"

He trailed off when he noticed her lip wobble, and he scooted down the bed to sit closer to her, "Please, don't cry."

"I just… I had a feeling I was pregnant," she told him, running her hand under her eye to brush away a few tears, "and I knew it was my fault. I haven't been careful with my birth control… I promise it wasn't to spite you… I mean, it was at first, but it wasn't my intention to get pregnant now."

Severus sighed, "Well, why don't we make an appointment at Mungo's to see if you're actually pregnant. I can't say I particularly trust those Muggle… sticks."

"Well, they work for Muggles," she argued. "I don't see why they would lie to me."

"Do it for me," he pressed. "So we can get some clarity on this."

She tucked her hair behind her ears and then fidgeted with her nails, "What if I am pregnant, Severus? What… What are we going to do?"

His eyes met hers, and there was a look of horrible longing in them that was almost too painful to ignore. How could he deny her this? As much as it would kill him, he could feel his resolve chipping away piece by piece.

"I… I won't force you to give up the child you've wanted for so long," he reasoned, "but I will leave the decision to you. I won't guilt you into anything… I just want you to think about it."

She bit her lower lip, no doubt holding back a small smile, and then flung her arms around his neck. He exhaled sharply, and then slipped his own arms around her waist. She was his salvation, all these years she had managed to keep him sane. After losing the first love of his life, Lily Evans, Severus never really thought he would find someone like her again. And then along came Ginny. If he was being honest with himself, he couldn't deny her much, and with a baby potentially in the picture, things suddenly started to seem real. They had argued over the theoretical prospects of having a child for months now, but with it potentially here already, there didn't seem like much an argument anymore.

"I think we both know what my answer will be," she whispered in his ear, "but I'll give it a few more thoughts."

"Thank you," he murmured, kissing the side of her head affectionately. "That's all I'm asking…"

Ginny released him and eased herself to the other side of the bed, holding up the comforter for him to slip under. After he kicked off his shoes, he clambered in after her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and buried his face in her lovely hair as they curled up together.

"I can't believe you aren't more upset with me," she muttered.

"I'm so tired of fighting with you about this," Severus insisted, his eyes closed. "If this is something you really, really want… We'll make it work now that is could potentially be here."

He heard her sigh happily, and she snuggled into his chest, her hands tightening on his arms, "I love you."

"I love you too."

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**OMG SO SAPPY AND ROMANTIC. I do love Ginny and Snape. I'm correcting mistakes in Him… a father?, the actual series, and they are kind of too cute for words. **

**So, Ginny **_**is**_** pregnant, despite Snape's unwillingness to trust Muggle tests. Her pregnancy will go into more one-shots and sequels down the line, so be sure to check those out. There will be a story dedicated to her having the baby, and probs a few one-shots here and there about Snape handling everything. **

**Also, this is dedicated to pittstick1. Probably my biggest and longest fan for the Ginny/Snape ship, and I'm ever grateful for the support! Love, love, love!**

**Also, mama bear/lion Molly makes me endlessly happy. **


	9. Happy birthday, Narcissa! 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**T****here are spoilers in here for **_**The Arrogant Heart**_**. MAJOR SPOILERS. If you haven't read it, then something will be spoiled for you in the third installment of this little short story. **

**This is a short segue story into bigger issues in this series. It will deal with Narcissa's birthday, and will take part over the course of one day – morning, afternoon, and night. I should have the rest of this up sometime over the next couple of weeks. The muse suddenly hit me, so I had to get this chapter finished! **

**So, enjoy! But be warned about the spoilers, and you might not understand some things if you haven't read the other stories, but that's just to avoid confusion.**

* * *

><p><strong>Happy birthday, Narcissa!<strong>

**Chapter 1: Narcissa **

_Narcissa has a birthday she will never, ever forget, and shockingly it's Lucius that struggles the most at the end of the day._

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><p>Narcissa awoke to the sound of rustling somewhere in her room. Groaning a little, she rolled over and fumbled around on her bedside table until she found her delicate wristwatch. A quick look at the time let her know that it was nine in the morning. Now, this was around the time she woke up naturally, but Lucius was a little funny about his rising; when the children were over, he was always up ridiculously early. However, when it was just the two of them in the house, he usually wouldn't show up for breakfast until nine-thirty. He never stumbled in groggily or anything, but he usually wasn't up before her if they were alone. However, this morning seemed to be different. Setting her watch back down on the glass bedside table, she rolled up into a seated position to spot Lucius strolling toward her in his bathrobe, a tray of breakfast in hand.<p>

She smiled weakly and then ran a hand through her hair.

"Good morning, darling," he greeted as he set the tray down at the end of the bed. "Happy birthday."

November 27th, 2015. Narcissa Malfoy had officially turned sixty. It made her cringe.

"Thank you," she replied, slowly slipping out from under the covers and smoothing down her silk nightie. The blonde examined the breakfast her husband produced without a hint of scrutiny. She smiled and turned her head to the side as he kissed her temple and then scooped her hair off her neck. "This looks lovely."

"I made it myself," he admitted. "No house elves this year. It's a special birthday this time."

"Oh, it's no different than any other year," Narcissa insisted as she straightened out a spoon, "but thank you for cooking for me."

"A rare occasion," he chuckled against her skin before giving her another kiss. It was a wonderful gesture, despite Narcissa's reluctance to actually celebrate this day. He had washed two bowls of strawberries with the green leaves removed precisely and made two perfect waffles for her. There was a large glob of whip cream on the side of her plate, a small bottle of syrup, and a cup of tea that she assumed was steamed just to the right temperature.

"It looks perfect," she sighed, tipping her head up to give him a proper kiss. "Just let me freshen up, and you can feed me."

"And the demands begin," Lucius laughed. He shot her a wink as she sauntered off to the en-suite bathroom across the room.

When she shut the door behind her softly, she sighed. After tending to herself, she stood in front of the lovely vanity mirror, her pale hands resting on the porcelain sink. Without looking at herself in the mirror, she knew her age was showing. Although she had hit fifty ten years ago, Narcissa prided herself in keeping wrinkles off her skin, and the age out of her eyes. While she had matured over the years, Narcissa had always maintained a certain poise and grace to her appearance that many her age had lost.

However, as she stared down at her hands, she saw that her age had finally started to really show. Although she moisturized every night, and occasionally slept with gloves in particularly dry winter to preserve the look of her skin, apparently it wasn't enough. The skin appeared aged and stretched over bony fingers. The only perfection on her hands now was her excellently maintained nails. Her lips pursed as she studied them. All the same shape, length and elegant in their own right. As her eyes traveled upward, she wrinkled her nose at those awful hands. It was almost as if they had developed scales overnight. She hurriedly washed them several times, scrubbing them clean as if she could, and then went a little overboard with her creams and perfumes. When she was a little more satisfied with their look – when in reality they looked no different – she finally left the lavatory.

"Did you get lost in there?" Lucius inquired absently. She watched as he plucked a strawberry off the tray and popped it in his mouth, "The waffles I slaved over are going to get cold…"

He looked up at her when she remained standing near the bathroom door, fiddling with her hands. She heard him rise from the bed, "Cissa? Is everything all right?"

"Hmm?" she replied, looking up at him quickly, and then forcing a smile, "Yes. Yes, everything's fine."

The remark was met with a fairly skeptical look from her husband, but he said nothing as she climbed back into bed. She assessed her breakfast with that forced smile, and then settled back into her pillows as Lucius pushed the tray up to her.

"Care to dress my waffles?" Narcissa asked as she tucked her hands under her robe. Lucius set to work covering her breakfast in cinnamon and syrup, placing strawberries perfectly around the square delights. When he finished, he sat back expectantly and then nodded to have at it. She grinned a little, almost forgetting about her hands until the moment she touched the utensils. From there, she recoiled, rubbing her hands again as if it would force the skin to thicken over her skinny fingers.

"Cissa," Lucius murmured, reaching out and stopping her hand. "What's wrong?"

"Am I old, Lucius?" she asked suddenly, her eyes a little watery as she looked up at him. For a moment he stared at her, as though contemplating the inquiry, and then patted her hands.

"Yes," he said lightly. "We're both rather old."

Her jaw dropped a little, and she felt her resolve start to crumble. However, he laughed his usual chuckle, the one the indicated he was laughing at her for something ridiculous. Her eyebrows shot up, and she pulled her hands away.

"Darling," he cooed, slipping in a little closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "I'm not agreeing with your… ridiculous notion that you look old."

"I don't-"

"You're the youngest looking sixty year old I've ever seen," he continued, a little more forceful in his tone. "Even if you're sagging and wrinkled, you'll always be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Laying it on a little thick, dearest," she mused, quickly wiping a finger under her eye to get rid of a tear, "but I appreciate the sentiment."

"I don't need to say anything," Lucius argued as he gave her a chaste kiss on the temple. He pushed her hair back over her shoulders. "You know I don't give out compliments on a whim."

"You spoil me, don't lie," she insisted as she started into her breakfast.

"Darling-"

"I know," she insisted as she scooped up a forkful of waffle. She felt his eyes on her as she stuffed it into her mouth, and then moaned a little. It was wonderfully flavoured. Everything about it was perfect. He knew exactly what she liked on her waffles. He had the texture just right; fluffy with slightly crispy sides.

"It's wonderful," she told him when she finished indulging herself a little. "You're wonderful."

"I know."

She swatted him playfully, and continued to eat as Lucius conjured up another tea cup and poured himself a cup from the tray's kettle. They sat in silence together for some time as she munched away, basking in the warm glow of the sun glistening in from the windows, the love of her husband, and the warmth of her breakfast, all worries about her aging dissolving with each bite of waffle.

"I have the whole day planned out for you, my love," Lucius told her as he scratched her back, occasionally switching to fiddle with pieces of her hair. "After this, a shower. From there, down to the shops and you can have everything you'd like. Lunch in London, a show… and then back home for another romantic meal in the dining hall tonight."

Narcissa listened intently, nodding to all of his plans. He had never taken initiative like this before. In fact, it was normally Draco who had planned all of her birthdays, with her husband adding his input throughout the proceedings. A thought then occurred to her, and it was actually a little more upsetting than the idea of her aging.

"Is Draco coming to any of this?"

"He got called into work today," Lucius muttered, rolling his eyes a little as he scoffed. "We already decided to have him and the children come round tomorrow to celebrate."

"Oh," she intoned, a frown on her lips. "Why did they have to call him in on a Saturday?"

"Darling, I don't pretend to know anything about the new ministry and why he has to do these things," he remarked. "I have already informed him that I'm displeased he won't be here for your day, but that's why we're going to spend it together."

Narcissa nodded. She was, of course, always happy to spend the whole day with her darling husband, and his plan for the day sounded brilliant. After all, he was going to spoil her endlessly, and after this many years of marriage, she still did love to be spoiled. However, she also wanted to spend her birthday with her family… the entire family. Draco and the children were such a big part of her life, and she was quite disappointed that they wouldn't be around to celebrate with her on the day.

"Now, forget about your dreadful son and come help me wash my back," he purred, scooping her up and lifting her off the bed as she giggled.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**YEAY LUCIUS/NARCISSA FLUFFFFFF! Makes me so happy. Stick around for sneaky Malfoy fun, because the day is only just getting started!**


	10. Happy birthday, Narcissa! 2

**Happy birthday, Narcissa!**

**Chapter 2: Draco**

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><p>"Shouldn't we get going?"<p>

Draco looked up at Hermione from across the table, and then glanced down at his watch, "Will they have left yet?"

"You know he's taking her for lunch," the woman insisted, cocking an eyebrow. "Realistically, we should have left an hour ago."

"Yeah, but there's six of us decorating," Kevin argued as he popped the remainder of his sandwich in his mouth. "I mean, what do we have to do? Set out food and put up streamers? It'll take twenty minutes."

"I think you underestimate how extravagant your grandfather wants this to be," Draco muttered. His father had explicit orders that he and his children turn the house into a work of art while he kept his mother busy for the day. When she returned later that evening, they were to have everything perfect _and_ have all their guests hidden in the dining hall for the surprise.

"Well, grandmother _is_ sixty," Eloise piped up, wrinkling her nose as Annie started shoving handfuls of blueberries into her mouth, a bit of purple juice oozing down her cheeks. "Bit of a special occasion."

"Annie," Draco intoned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Table manners, please."

She tried to speak, but Hermione quickly swooped in with a napkin and began cleaning up the mess.

"Eloise is right… This is a special birthday for your grandmother, and I want us to do an excellent job with the decorations," Draco said decidedly, pushing his empty plate away, satisfied with his quick lunch. "Dobby?"

The house elf appeared noisily beside him, his head cocked to the side, "Yes?"

"Could you do me a favour and start moving all of the food from our kitchen to my parents'?" he asked, eyeing the house elf closely. "Make sure everything gets put in the proper place so nothing spoils."

"Of course," Dobby grinned, fiddling with his silk shirt. "Anything else?"

"No, thank you."

With a snap of his fingers, the elf was gone, and Draco noticed Hermione shoot him an approving look as she and Shane began clearing the plates. It was strange having Dobby in his house as his servant once more. He was, after all, a free elf, and had a long-standing grudge with the Malfoy family. In fact, Draco was quite surprised when the elf came back asking for a job, but he was sure Potter had something to do with it. The children adored him, and Hermione was always so pleased whenever she saw the thing in his excellent work uniform, or when his payday rolled around. So, Draco put up with what would normally be considered insubordination from the elf because… well, he made people around here happy and Draco's life easier.

"Can Bo come decorate too?" Annie asked as Draco joined in with the clearing of the table. The dog lifted his head from across the room, obviously having heard his name, and then let out a long whine.

"I…suppose," Draco managed, "but only if you keep him under control. If he chews one more thing in your grandmother's house, she's going to skin him."

"No she won't!" the little girl protested, arms folded across her chest, "Grandmother loves Bo!"

"Only when he's behaved," Kevin chuckled. "Don't worry, Dad, I'll keep him in line."

"Thank you."

He definitely didn't need for things to be any more complicated than they were bound to be today. While he was used to planning his mother's festivities for her birthday, this had to be different. It had to be bigger, better, and more dazzling than all of his parties in the past. While he usually didn't do much as far as celebrations went, he always wanted to give back to the woman who raised him on her birthday, and stopped putting up a fight to decorate once he left his teens. Naturally, there were more pressing issues in his life when he was a teenager, but with the world in its rightful place now, there was definitely no reason for him to object to party planning. Besides, he had Hermione to help him, and while her tastes weren't the most glamorous, she was a woman… That had to count for something, right?

"Annie, pumpkin, go put your coat and shoes on," Draco asked once the table was clear. His youngest daughter was still picking at some of the blueberry stains on her shirt, but jumped to life at the order and bounced out of their dining hall. It was definitely smaller than the one at the Malfoy Manor, which was ironic as there were more people living here, but Draco almost preferred it that way. The house was much cosier without an excessive amount of studies and pointless spare bedrooms.

"All right," Hermione announced as Draco sauntered out of the dining room. "The dishes are drying in the rack, and the children are getting their coats together. Do you want them to bring their party clothes, or will we have time to run back and change?"

"I'll have Dobby fetch them closer to the hour," Draco replied, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as he walked by. "You're already being fantastically organized, love."

"Is that a surprise?" she laughed as she followed him into the main foyer, a hand on his back. "I do thrive on planning things."

"Well, you'll have your hands full with everything today," he mused as he rummaged through the closet for their cloaks. "Thank you… in advance."

"Of course," she grinned, slipping into her tweed jacket as his children came bounding down the less grand main stairwell, bags of goods in their hands.

"Right, now remember the colour scheme," Draco said over the clamour of his teens throwing cloaks on and jamming feet into boots. "Green, silver and black."

Hermione scoffed beside him, and he shot her a look, "They are a combination of the Black and Malfoy family crest colours… and it's just ironic that they match the Slytherin house colours."

"Hardly," his girlfriend snorted, rolling her eyes a little as she stooped to help Annie lace up her thick, brown boots.

"Look, just no extra artistic touches," Draco continued, giving his two boys an especially hard look. "I want it to look classy and elegant for you grandmother, understood?"

"We aren't idiots, Dad," Shane chuckled, holding up a plastic bag teeming with silver ribbons. "Just tell us what to do and we'll do it."

"All right, all right," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Let's ship out and I'll assign you to rooms when we get there."

Annie rushed out first, Bo in hand, and Eloise followed closely. His boys waited until he and Hermione were ready, and Draco locked the door behind them. There wasn't really any need to lock up out here. The Malfoy Manor was closer to a main road, but Draco had his house built for his children fairly far back in the woods. The two-storey Victorian was surrounded by trees and a stream, and no one could ever hear the sound of Muggle traffic or any manufactured noises. It was perfection. There were more than enough rooms inside for each of his children to have their own space, which Eloise was especially happy with. So far, Hermione refused to move in with him, opting to stay in the room Potter gave her in Hogwarts. However, every weekend she was here, so there was more of a compromise than Draco had expected.

Hand-in-hand, he and Hermione strolled along behind his children through the well-trodden path between his home and Malfoy Manor. They exited out of the quiet woodland and into the open field behind his parents' house, with Annie racing ahead to the back door. He could already see her pouting when she found it locked, and the four of them waited for Draco to show up and unlock the door.

"Boots off!" he said quickly as the clan hurried in through the door, their shoes wet and a little muddy from the walk over. He waited outside, a hand on the doorframe, until everyone was in and undressed, and then quickly stepped inside, blocking out the chill.

"All right, troops," Draco sighed, rummaging in his pocket for a crumpled piece of paper where he had scribbled some semblance of a plan. "Eloise and Annie, I'd like you two to take care of the seating area. We'll use the main study on the first floor. Tables, bookcases, and windows need to be done up nicely. Now," he turned to his boys, "for now I'd like you two to move unnecessary furniture out and into a room we won't be using… and then bring some extra couches and sitting spaces in. Hermione and I will see to the kitchen and dining hall."

"And no magic," Hermione said quickly, holding up a warning finger as Shane rolled his eyes. "None of you are of age yet and the Ministry is bringing back their old rules. Behave."

"Mmm, good point," Draco agreed. "Any questions?"

"Maybe later," Eloise replied as she hauled some bags of streamers toward her designated room. "Dunno how we're supposed to get all the windows without magic."

"Stand on a chair?" Draco suggested with a shrug, which earned him a bit of a look from his daughter. The four disappeared in a flurry of bags, chattering, and laughter as Bo tore off ahead of them. He cringed a little, hoping for his mother's sake that the dog behaved. However, if the young dog ended up getting into anything, he hoped someone would tell him so that he could fix it before either of his parents saw. His mother might kill the dog, but his father would end him if the little German Shepherd messed up another rug or chair leg in the house.

Hermione strolled off toward the dining hall, two bags in her hands, and Draco followed behind closely. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander down her body. Honestly, if she chose to wear those tight little pants, he was going to look. She looked absolutely delicious in them, and even with her baggy, homely sweater on the top, he wanted to do nothing more than take her on top of the dining room table.

He shook his head, quickly banishing those thoughts. He wasn't sure where they had come from, but they had been quite frequent as of late. Perhaps it was because he and Hermione had taken things ridiculously slow since the end of the war. She worked a lot, as did he, and when they were together, the children occupied the majority of their time. So far, they had yet to actually be intimate with one another. As a man with a woman that looked like Hermione, it was almost getting unbearable. However, they hadn't actually had the discussion either: he wondered if it was even on her mind.

She threw her hair up in a sloppy bun, but before she could say anything, he wrapped his hand around it firmly and pulled her in for a kiss. The woman squealed against him, dropping the bags at the contact. Two hands pressed softly against his chest, and she broke away slightly.

"Draco," she grinned, giving him a quick peck. "We can't lose focus. We're on a schedule!"

"A couple of minutes won't hurt anyone," he murmured, running his lips alone her neck, the skin prickling. "You just look delicious today."

"Charmer," she laughed, poking him sharply in the side. "Why don't we save it for later tonight?"

He looked up at her, a blond eyebrow cocked, "Tonight?"

"Yes, after we're finished decorating," she giggled, pushing him away lightly. "Come along, you."

He sighed noisily, hoping to let his disappointment sink in, but begrudgingly followed her further into the dining hall. She whipped out her wand, and immediately went to work on the dining room table. Draco watched her for a little while, altering the table cloth into something black with lace on the hem. She then flicked her wand at one of the bags beside him, and a dozen or so silver-toned plates flew out and arranged themselves neatly on the table. She clearly had everything under control, and Draco decided that she wasn't even the slightest bit in the mood when there was so much to do. Sighing again, he moved toward the windows. He changed the curtains into a very deep green, which matched with the magically enhanced green roses his father had ordered several months ago. They were going to be the centrepiece on the table, and be scattered around the house. Dobby had the task of picking them up from Diagon after he set all the food in the kitchen.

"So," Draco started, "how was your week?"

Even though she had arrived last night and slept next to him after a movie night with the children, they hadn't actually had a good conversation yet.

"Good enough, I suppose," Hermione replied as she conjured deep green fabric wraps around the chairs. "It's a little hectic in the library right now… all the professors seem to be assigning essays before December, and students are mad trying to get books."

"Little bit more stressful than you expected?"

"Sometimes," she sighed. "I never realized how much work Pince put into it… I understand now why she was always so grumpy with us."

"She was grumpy because she was an absolute cow," Draco argued, shooting her a grin as she scoffed at him. He tried to feign innocence, but she saw right through him, "Oh, don't defend her, Hermione. Everyone hated her."

"Don't be dramatic."

He laughed noisily, finishing up with the first set of curtains, "Being so busy there kind of makes you wish you had somewhere to escape to at the end of the day, eh?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he started cautiously. "Don't you want to just… get out of the castle after a long day of work?"

"Sometimes, I suppose," she commented absently. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed she was arranging the napkins in some intricate shape on top of the plates, "I do always enjoy a Hogwarts dinner with Ron and Harry at the end of the day."

"Ah, of course."

"Were you trying to hint at something, Draco?"

He paused, and then looked back at her again. She stared up at him, one hand on her hip, her head cocked to the side. Had he really been that transparent?

"I just thought it might be time we… try living together," he remarked casually. "I mean, we've been seeing each other for almost a year at this point, and-"

"I know," she said, suddenly setting her wand down and sauntering in his direction, "and I know we've been moving really, really slow for me."

"Yes, we have."

"But I don't really think we started this properly until the start of the summer," she insisted, "and as easy as it would be to live with you, I think we need to make sure we don't… feel like we're all over each other."

"I think _that's_ dramatic," Draco droned, rolling his eyes a little. "You and I work all week… There's no way we would be all over each other."

"All right, let me be blunt then," Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm not ready to move in with you right now. I've only just got my adult life on a track that I want, and I'm not ready to change it again. I'm happy with where we are right now, and I don't want to change anything."

"Well, don't hold anything back," he grumbled, and he noticed her face change a little. "It's fine. Glad to know where we are."

"Draco…"

There was a sudden commotion from somewhere in the house; lots of laughter, some screaming, and Bo barking like mad. Draco sighed again and turned away, "I'm going to deal with that."

She didn't protest. Instead, when he looked over his shoulder, she had returned to the table, rearranging things, her eyebrows knitted in concentration. Was that all she had to say? She was happy with her life and didn't want to make it _their_ life? He knew he shouldn't push her, but he couldn't help feeling a little put out after the very brief conversation.

The commotion picked up as he drew closer to the study, and he came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. His children seemed to have taken decorating a little less seriously than he hoped. Annie had wrapped all four of Bo's legs in silver streamers, which the dog was attempting to chew off as she worked on a different leg. Meanwhile, Shane and Eloise had Kevin completely mummified in a bunch of different coloured streamers, his eyes the only thing visible. They widened when they spotted Draco, and he tried screaming for help.

His eyes narrow on the scene in front of him, and he raised his voice only a little, "Are you kidding me?"

They all froze, and Annie looked slightly panicked, "They started it!"

She pointed accusingly at her siblings, and Eloise's eyes narrowed, "Don't even!"

"I don't care who started it, just fix it," he snapped, flicking his wand around the room to clean up the mess that had been started. "Can you just do as I asked? Remember that you're doing this for your grandmother… How much does she do for you every single bloody day of the year? _One_ day is for her and just her. Stop mucking around!"

"Sorry, Dad," Kevin mumbled, the streamers pulled down under his chin. "We'll start being serious."

"Either that or you can go home and not come to the party tonight," Draco threatened. "No sweets, no seeing anyone, no nothing. Dobby will mind you like the little children you're being."

"All right, all right," Shane groaned. "We get it."

"Good."

He gave them a warning look, and then disappeared, hoping they would find their mature sides sometime soon. However, instead of returning to the dining hall, he went on to the kitchen to sort out dinner. Normally, he would have returned to Hermione, but right now, he didn't really want to go back. With his feelings a little bruised, and frustration rising regarding his troublesome teens, he felt like he needed some time alone before the party that evening. How odd that the day had gone downhill so quickly…

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**I actually thoroughly enjoy writing the DR/HR relationship where he is way more into moving things along than she is. For some reason, it feels very satisfying. **


	11. Happy birthday, Narcissa! 3

**Happy birthday, Narcissa!**

**Chapter 3: Lucius**

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><p>Now, Lucius hated seeing his wife upset. Every time a hint of misery seeped into those gorgeous eyes, he was right there to sweep it away to the best of his abilities. Sometimes those abilities were lacking, yes, but the longer they were married, the more accustomed he had become to finding ways to please Narcissa. However, today he wanted to keep her in suspense, though it seemed he had inadvertently made her quite distraught. She normally didn't ask for much on her birthdays – Lucius doted on her regardless of her requests – but she did want her entire family together for the festivities. Her sister, although they had become far less close over the years, had died in the final battle earlier in the year, which meant she was lacking in some closeness. Then, when he told her Draco had to work – a complete lie – he almost ruined it when he saw her face fall. She was hopelessly distraught that the family opted to have a Sunday dinner together tomorrow rather than spend time with her on her birthday. No matter what Lucius did, no matter what he purchased or said, it seemed that she was distracted throughout their entire outing.<p>

After her perfect breakfast in bed, Lucius took her down to London so that she could pick whatever she wished from a rather pricey jewellery store in Diagon. He gave her no limit, and in the end he forked over a great deal of money for new earrings, a necklace, and several diamond-encrusted bracelets. Money was never an issue when it came to Narcissa, but now that he had been financing four extra children whenever the grandchildren were over, he was lucky the Ministry had set up a War Veteran's Pension fund for survivors of the most recent war. Now, a nice chunk of change ended up in his accounts each month, which was what he had officially spent on Narcissa for the day. As usual, she didn't feel uncomfortable at the high spending, nor did she limit herself; naturally, she had become accustomed to a certain style of living over the years, even during the tough times, and in the senior years of their life, she wasn't about to change.

After shopping, he took her to a show in the Muggle portion of London. It was highly distasteful, but Hermione had taken his wife and Ginny to a show several weeks earlier with her own mother. Apparently it was a wonderful bonding experience for the ladies, and Narcissa seemed to be bitten by the Muggle theatre bug. She had been pestering him ever since to sit through one with her at some point, so he thought it would be a good way to kill a few hours while Draco got the manor set up for her surprise. There was an awful lot of singing and dancing and crooning around on some massive stage as they watched from the balcony, and Lucius drifted in and out through most of the performance. When the cast finally came out on stage for their bows, it took Lucius a second or so to realize it was over. Narcissa seemed to have momentarily forgotten about her lack of family time as they filtered out of the crowded theatre, gushing about how wonderful the main actress was and which number was her favourite.

The happiness lasted throughout the majority of their expensive lunch at the Glass Slipper, a wizard-run restaurant in the heart of Muggle London's fashion district, and Lucius tried his best to keep the momentum up. However, no matter how peppy he made himself out to be, it was clear that she would have rather been with Draco and the children at home doing some sort of family activity. From what he remembered, everyone should be arriving sometime around five, and he was meant to have his wife back by half past the hour to surprise her. Once they arrived, Draco told him Hermione would start with dinner, and they would be eating in the dining hall within the following hour or so. So, to fill the time between lunch and bringing his darling wife home, he took her to a park for a lovely stroll, arm in arm, and tried to engage her in conversation about anything he could think of. Although there was normally never a lull in the conversation, he could tell she was a little half-hearted on her side of things.

Finally, a quick glance at his wristwatch indicated that it was time to drag his downtrodden wife home. He wasn't frustrated with her, but he was excited to see a genuine smile on her face at some point today. She clung to him as they apparated away from the big city and back to their countryside estate, landing neatly at the entryway just on the outside of their gates. He flung them open with a flick of his wand, and smirked a little when he saw a light extinguish in a window on the first floor. Narcissa seemed preoccupied with locking the gates up, but was soon back at his side, her arm linked with his as they strolled down the chilly entrance walkway.

"So, what shall I make you for dinner tonight?" Lucius inquired, "Nothing too complicated… You know the stove is stubborn."

"Hmm, the stove, yes," she mused, shooting him a bit of a coy look, a grin on her lips. "I'm still full from lunch… I'll let you know later if I'd like something elaborate."

"Don't forget prep time, dearest," he commented as he opened the front door for her, "I know you have expensive tastes… I may need to run out for something."

"Nonsense," his wife sighed as they entered the dark manor, shrugging off her cloak. "I would be happy with anything at this point."

"Oh, I don't think you'll have to settle for just anything," he muttered.

Moments later, the lights in the foyer flickered to life, and Narcissa gasped noisily. He turned around just as a crowd of people shouted the clichéd "Surprise!" at his wife from across the hall, and in a heartbeat Annie raced across to wish her grandmother a happy birthday. Draco had done well. The place was decorated in a wonderful array of green, black and silver streamers, and it seemed someone had transfigured Narcissa's plant petals to match the decorations. Even the dog had a bloody bow on that matched. She was absolutely thrilled. Genuine happiness shone from her eyes and her smile as she hugged her grandchildren, and Lucius shook hands with Arthur Weasley as he greeted his old cellmate and his wife. There was a good crowd here, and although she might have been missing her mad sister, she now had her son with his children, Hermione, Arthur and Molly, her niece and Remus, and Severus and Ginny to fill the void. All in all, he figured this was exactly what she needed to make her birthday truly special.

"Well done at keeping her out of the house," Severus murmured as he sidled up, standing next to Lucius as their wives exchanged pleasantries. "Ginny was bursting to tell Narcissa all week… She's been driving me absolutely mad."

"Women are known to do that," Lucius chuckled, ignoring the slight glare his friend sent his way, "but they do get much better with age, I promise."

"She does look lovely."

"More than that," he mused, watching his wife with a smile as she swatted Draco on the head, no doubt admonishing him for pulling the wool over her eyes. Eloise slipped away from the crowd and hurried over to him, looking quite fetching in a black fitted dress down to her knees. She gave him at mercy, at least. Lucius smiled pleasantly down at her as she slid under his arm, which wrapped snugly around her shoulder. "The house looks very nice, Eloise."

"Yeah, it does now," she snorted. "We sort of made a bit of a mess in your study, which was where we were originally going to seat everyone, but that's a no deal now… So the sitting room got what's left of the decorations. … Don't tell grandmother."

He blinked, trying to digest all the information she fired rapidly at him, "Wait, what happened to my study?"

"Doesn't matter," she said sweetly, smiling up at him. "I mean, grandmother's surprised, so that's all that matters. Do you want us to start dinner?"

"I… Well, yes, you could get started, but what about my-"

"Okay! See you!"

She dashed off toward the kitchen, grabbing Hermione by the hand and pulling her along too, and Lucius rolled his eyes.

"Nothing a wand can't fix," Severus insisted, which made Lucius sigh irritably.

"You haven't seen what they can do when they're really trying."

If one of his ships was broken in the chaos, there would be hell to pay. He and Severus followed the crowd into the first floor sitting room, which looked just as nice as the foyer, and he found a spot in his usual chair as their guests showered Narcissa with gifts. She seemed a bit overwhelmed by all the attention, but took it graciously, as always. Annie insisted on sitting on her lap and inspecting each present once it was unwrapped to give her honest opinion. She liked almost everything, except for the diary from Nymphadora – apparently books were boring.

She was bound for Hufflepuff.

Eloise, Hermione and Draco were quite attentive over the course of the next hour, bringing out little appetizers and filling people's drinks. When the gift-giving had settled, individual conversations sparked around the room, and Lucius watched Molly Weasley grilling Kevin about his study habits for some time before he noticed Arthur in the chair beside him. Normally it wasn't there, but it seemed like Draco had added some extra sitting space to accommodate for the amount of people present.

"I hear you met the Grangers," the man commented as he took a sip from a mug, presumably tea. "How was that? Quite Muggle, no?"

His eyes narrowed a hint, sensing a bit of teasing from his old rival, and he shrugged, "They seemed like perfectly acceptable people. Different, surely… Narcissa liked them."

"And yourself?"

"_I_ was acceptable," he said decidedly. "Better than I would have been twenty years ago, I can tell you that much."

"Well, one would hope the times have changed for you," Arthur sighed. "We tried to have them round for drinks every so often since Ron and Hermione have always been so close… though, it's been less and less over the years for obvious reasons."

His eyes drifted over to Hermione, her arm wrapped around Draco's as they chatted quickly with Ginny. An eyebrow arched, "Are they still close?"

"Hmm? What?"

"Your son and Hermione," Lucius clarified, the thought only just occurring to him. "They do work together at Hogwarts, do they not?"

"From what I understand, yes," Arthur replied, "but Ron's married and Hermione's clearly moved on… I think they are still close, yes, but those three have something no one else can ever have. It only makes sense."

"I suppose."

His eyes narrowed on the woman. He wasn't overly suspicious of the woman who might one day become his daughter-in-law (providing Draco didn't mess it up somehow), but there was always a concern that she might hurt his son. Draco hadn't found anyone worthwhile since his first marriage, and when he finally did it again, Lucius wanted it to stick.

"So how has Narcissa been handling the big one?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Being sixty."

"Ah…" he trailed off, glancing in his wife's direction. She laughed happily on the couch as Shane regaled her and her niece with some rather animated story. "She was a little upset this morning, but I turned sixty last year… I think she forgets we all get old."

"It's a bit harder for women though, isn't it?" Arthur chuckled, "I wish I had been there to comfort Molly when she turned sixty. I believe… let me see, six years ago… I was in a work camp in Spain. Hopefully the boys were good to her."

He gazed at the man, and then took a sip of his scotch. Arthur seemed to cavalier about his time in Voldemort's internment camps; he couldn't imagine being locked away from Narcissa and Draco for so many years.

"But if she does feel a bit off again, you be sure to tell her no one on the outside would think she looks sixty," Arthur chuckled. He paused for a moment, and then smirked a little, "Don't tell Molly I said that…"

"Lips are sealed," Lucius muttered, raising his glass a little before taking another sip. Arthur opened his mouth, leaning over as if to launch into a story, but Eloise cleared her throat in an attempt to get everyone's attention.

"Dinner should be ready in a couple of minutes," she explained, tucking a stray piece of hair back behind her ears. "So if you want a good spot next to the birthday girl, get a move on to the dining hall!"

"Me first!" Annie trilled as she bounded ahead of the gang, clearly pleased to be dragging Ginny along with her. Lucius waited until everyone had filed out, and eventually trickled into the dining hall after them. His usual spot at the head of the table went to Narcissa, as he expected, and he found a spot between Severus and Lupin that would do just fine. The decorations continued into the hall, including the flowery centerpieces between the large plates of food. Cooked vegetables, a roast, and several platters of chicken and potatoes lined the large table, and once the cooks had joined them, Lucius led a toast for his wife.

"To my very beautiful wife," Lucius said, his glass raised as the members of what appeared to be a surrogate family – not another extended Malfoy in sight, after all – raised their glasses in unison, "who, like the fine wine we're drinking, only gets better with age. Happy birthday, darling."

Narcissa smiled demurely as the rest of the table echoed his sentiments, "Thank you, dearest. Now… don't just sit there. Everything looks so wonderful."

"Thanks to Eloise and Hermione," Draco added as people began filling their plates. "I wasn't really much help."

"There's a surprise," Ginny droned, which earned her a look from his son and a chuckle from Severus.

Conversations rose up again, as they always seemed to with these types of things, and Lucius fell into one between the men on either side of him regarding some new Ministry policies. After all, Lupin had been the new Minister for Magic for the majority of this year, and surprisingly, things had been going fairly smooth under the new administration. There were a few hiccups, of course, and the man usually didn't enjoy discussing his position with friends and family – something Lucius was a part of now, he guessed – but he begrudgingly did so on occasion. For the most part, Lucius only cared about things that directly affected him, but after having been a part of the comings and goings of both Voldemort and Fudge's administration, he did have some sort of interest in the conversation.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a fork hitting a glass, and Ginny stood up halfway through the meal, "I thought this would be the best time to… to do this now that we have almost everyone here. I know we're all eager to find out if Remus and Dora are having a boy or girl… but I just wanted to say that a couple of months after we're graced with the newest Lupin… we'll also be graced with the newest member of the Snape family."

"Uncle Severus has family?" Kevin asked absently, his fork loaded with mashed potatoes. It took everything in him not to smack the boy across the head, but he somehow restrained. Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically.

"For those of you lacking in deductive reasoning, I'm pregnant."

Lucius shook Severus' hand vigorously as the table erupted in congratulations and well wishes. It seemed that her parents were already privy to the little secret, as he expected much more emotion from Molly, but Narcissa was absolutely thrilled. His wife had seen Severus Snape as family ever since their school days, and it was almost like she was getting another grandchild by the way she hugged the redheaded woman happily. Severus took the attention in stride, with his usual tight smile and a nod here and there. Lucius was fully aware a child wasn't something his old friend wanted right now, not at his age, but he seemed to be taking it in stride.

"Try to make the smile go all the way up to your eyes, old friend," Lucius muttered into his drink, and Severus renewed his vigor as Ginny gushed about plans for the nursery.

"I am happy," his friend remarked, "but she does overshadow me every time."

"Women tend to do that when it comes to children."

He watched Draco awkward try to peel some meat off a chicken bone as Annie whined about not wanting any bone at all, and then rolled his eyes. Most of the time the women fawned over their children, but it seemed there were the few exceptions.

"I suppose we'll be in the ancient father's club together, Severus," Lupin remarked quietly, toasting him with his wine glass. "Hopefully we make it to see them through Hogwarts-"

"That isn't funny," his wife snapped, kicking him beneath the table sharp enough to make the Minister cry out softly. "Don't think a thing about it, Severus… Age is only a number."

"Agreed," Lucius insisted. While he might have supported Snape's right to have a child right now, he couldn't possibly imagine doing the soiled diapers and screaming baby at this age. He had done it once with Draco, now several more times with his grandchildren, and he wouldn't be keen on doing it again. As much as Narcissa loved all of them, he was sure she felt the same way.

The rest of the meal managed to carry on without any further exciting announcements, and as the girls ran the food back to the kitchen, Lucius offered to help clear dirty dishes. Normally he wouldn't life a finger, but seeing as Narcissa was so happy with the way the evening had been, he wanted to keep surprising her. After dumping a load of dishes into the sink – he offered to help carry them, not roll up his sleeves – he heard the faint sound of the front doorbell ringing.

"Draco, could you get the door?"

"Little busy, father," Draco ground out as he flew by with Annie on his hip, her face covered in sauce from the roast. "We aren't expecting anyone else."

Lucius frowned and glanced at his wristwatch. It was far too late for company. On his way to the door he retrieved his cane, concealed in it his wand, and tucked it under his arm. Surprisingly, Bo slunk out behind him, and he rolled his eyes, "Some form of defense you are…"

The dog released a low whine, glancing around his legs at the door, and he carried on, unlocking the bolt noisily and opening it. The sight before him took his breath away; there stood a woman who looked exactly like Narcissa, only twenty or so years younger. She had the same angles to her face, the same lovely eyes, and the same small smile his wife did whenever she was unsure of something – which was rare. Clad in remarkably plain clothes, her blonde hair swept up in a bun, she stared up at him, unspeaking and jaw slightly ajar, no doubt mirroring his own expression.

"Hi," she said quickly, "I'm sorry to bother you like this."

Scottish, from the sound of it. He frowned, "Yes, how did you get past the gate?"

"Oh, I apparated in," she explained. "The agency gave me your coordinates-"

"I'm sorry, the agency?"

Her cheeks flushed a dull crimson, and she seemed to backtrack quickly, "My name is Ivy Spencer. I was adopted by the Spencer family a long time ago-"

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but we don't usually give charity to people who apparate unannounced onto my property," he said abruptly, a little irritated to be dragged away from his wife's birthday feast. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Her lip wobbled a little, and she straightened her shoulders, "I would have written, but the post has been so terrible lately that I … it took me a long time to build up the … courage to do this in person."

"Right…"

"Mr. Malfoy," she started, and he frowned, taken aback that she knew his name. "You and your wife gave up a child… a daughter… almost thirty-seven years ago. I… You never said to the agency if you wanted contact with her, but I thought it's finally time to… to… do something."

He stared at her blankly for a moment, and then stepped outside onto the front stoop, shutting the door behind him, "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I know this is a lot to… to take," she stammered, "but I'm her. I've always… I wanted something, some kind of connection. Oh, I should have just written…"

She trailed off and took a few steps back, "I didn't mean to intrude. I don't really know what I was thinking… this … this was the wrong way to do it. Look, here's my card…"

The woman fumbled about in her jacket for a moment, and then produced two little white cards, "I work for the Prophet… and here's the agency's card if you'd like to get in touch with them to prove my credentials. I don't plan on … on ruining some sort of happy life, but I think someone's roots are important… necessary, and I'd like to know mine. So… if you want to, please get in touch with me. If not, no hard feelings or anything… I'm open to anything. A letter, a lunch… whatever you… want."

Lucius felt like he had been punched in the stomach repeatedly, and then thrown under a Muggle automobile. For every ounce of social grace he had, he couldn't manage to find his words. Instead, he took the two business cards soundlessly and put them in his pocket. She swallowed thickly, clearly on edge, and then nodded.

"Right. Well. Nice to have met you," she managed. He watched as she produced her wand and disappeared with a 'pop', leaving him alone once more.

When he could finally get his feet to move, he managed to drag himself inside and shut the door. Neither he nor Narcissa had discussed the child they gave away under Voldemort's orders since the day it happened. It always made her cry, and he couldn't stand to see her so distraught. So, they kept it buried, like some terrible secret. When Draco was born, it seemed like it wouldn't matter; there was another child to replace the one they lost because of their affiliation, and that was that.

"Who was that?"

He looked up, spotting Draco at the end of the foyer with Annie in his arms. He said nothing, and his son put the little girl down, who bounded off out of sight, "Father? Everything all right?"

"Hmm," he said, his voice only just returning. "Yes, yes, everything is fine. Why don't you go see if your mother needs anything. I'll be right in."

"Are you sure?"

No. "Yes, of course."

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**Scandal! For those of you who are confused, **_**The Arrogant Heart**_** is kind of a necessary read to understand the lost Malfoy daughter. The next story will deal with her and what Lucius is going to do with her, along with a Christmas dance for the Malfoy kiddies (awkward times), and some serious miscommunication between several couples resulting in a bit of drama. Should be fun! **

**See you next time! **


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